LIBRARY 

OF  THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT   OF" 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No .     *  .      Cto  N<  > 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


SUMMER    CRUISE 


THE  MEDITERRANEAN 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE. 


BY 


N.    PAEKEK   WILLIS. 


AUBUEIST: 
ALDEN,    BEARDSLEY    &    CO 

ROCHESTER  : 
WANZER,    BEARDSLEY    &    CO 

1853. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1858,  by 

CIIAELES    8  OB-IB  NEB, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


OF  one  of  the  most  delicious  episodes  in  a  long  period  of  foreign 
travel,  this  volume  is  the  imperfect  and  hastily  written  transcript. 
Even  at  the  time  it  was  written,  the  author  felt  its  experience  to  be 
a  dream— so  exempt  was  it  from  the  interrupting  and  qualifying 

drawbacks  of  happiness  in  common  and   working  life but,  now, 

after  an  interval  of  many  years,  it  seems. indeed  like  a  dream,  and 
one  so  fall  of  unmingled  pleasure,  that  its  telling  almost  wants  the 
contrast  of  a  sadness.  Of  the  noble  ship,  whose  summer  cruise  is 
described,  and  her  kind  and  hospitable  officers,  the  recollection  is  as 
fresh  and  grateful,  now,  as  when,  (twenty  years  ago,)  the  author  bade 
them  farewell  in  the  port  of  Smyrna.  Of  the  scenes  he  passed 
through,  while  their  guest,  he  has  a  less  perfect  remembrance— rely 
ing  indeed  on  these  chance  memoranda,  for  much  that  would  else  be 
forgotten.  It  is  with  a  mingled  sense  of  the  real  and  the  unreal, 
therefore,  that  the  book  is  offered,  in  a  new  shape,  to  the  Public, 
whose  approbation  has  encouraged  its  long  existence,  and  the 


vi  PREFACE. 


author  trusts  that  his  thanks  to  the  surviving  officers  of  th'it  ship, 
may  again  reach  them,  and  that  the  kind  favor  of  the  reading 
Public  may  be  again  extended  to  this,  his  record  of  what  he  saw  in 
the  company  of  these  officers,  and  by  their  generous  hospitality. 

HIGHLAND  TERRACE,  October,  1852. 


CONTEN1S. 


LETTER  I. 

Cruise  in  the  Frigate  United  States— Elba— Piombino— Porto  Ferrajo— Appearance 
of  the  Bay— Naval  Discipline— Visit  to  the  Town  Eesidence  of  Napoleon— His 
employment  during  his  Confinement  on  the  Island— His  sisters  Eliza  and  Pau 
line—His  Country-House—Simplicity  of  the  Inhabitants  of  Elba, 15 


LETTER  II. 

Visit  to  Naples,  Herculaneum,  and  Pompeii, 28 

LETTER  III. 

Account  of  Vesuvius— The  Hermitage— The  famous  Lagrima  Christi— Difficulties  of 
the  Path— Curious  Appearance  of  the  Old  Crater— Old  Assemblage  of  Travel 
lers—The  New  Crater— Splendid  Prospect— Mr.  Mathias,  Author  of  the  Pursuits 
of  Literature— The  Archbishop  of  Tarento, 85 

LETTER   IY. 

The  Fashionable  "World  of  Naples  at  the  Eaces— Brilliant  Show  of  Equipages— The 
King  and  his  Brother — Eank  and  Character  of  the  Jockeys — Description  of  the 
Eaces— The  Public  Burial  Ground  at  Naples— Horrid  and  Inhuman  Spectacles— 
The  Lazzaroni— The  Museum  at  Naples— Ancient  Eelics  from  Pompeii— Forks 
not  used  by  the  Ancients — The  Lamp  lit  at  the  time  of  our  Saviour — The  Antique 
Chair  of  Sallust— The  Villa  of  Cicero— The  Balbi  Family— Bacchus  on  the  Should 
ers  of  a  Faun— Gallery  of  Dians,  Cupids,  Joves,  Mercuries,  and  Apollos— Statuo 
of  Artistides,  etc., 44 


riii  CONTENTS. 


LETTER  V. 

Paestnm — Temple  of  Neptune — Departure  from  Elba — Ischia — Bay  of  Naples — The 
Toledo — The  Young  Queen — Conspiracy  against  the  King — Neapolitans  Visiting 
the  Frigates— Leave  the  B  ay — Castellamare, 66 

LETTER  VI. 

Baiffi— Grotto  of  Pausilyppo— Tomb  of  Virgil— Pozzuoli— Euins  of  the  Temple  of 
Jnpiter  Serapis — The  Lucrine  Lake — Lake  of  Avernus,  the  Tartarus  of  Virgil — 
Temple  of  Proserpine— Grotto  of  the  Cumasan  Sybil— Nero's  villa— Cape  of  Mise- 
num— Eoman  villas— Euins  of  the  Temple  of  Venus— Cento  Camerelle— The 
Stygian  Lake— The  Elysian  Fields—Grotto  del  Cane— Villa  of  Lucullus, 65 

LETTER  VII. 

Island  of  Sicily— Palermo— Saracenic  appearance  of  the  town— Cathedral— The  Marina 
— Viceroy  Leopold — Monastery  of  the  Capuchins — Celebrated  Catacombs — Fan 
ciful  Gardens, 74 


LETTER  VIII. 

The  Lunatic  Asylum  at  Palermo, 


LETTER  IX. 

Palermo— Fete  given  by  Mr.  Gardiner,  the  American  Consul— Temple  of  Clitumnua 
— Cottage  of  Petrarch— Messina— Lipari  Islands— Scylla  and  Charybdis, 91 


LETTER  X. 

The  Adriatic— Albania— Gay  Costumes  and  Beauty  of  the  Albanese— Capo  dlstria— 
Trieste  resembles  an  American  Town— Visit  to  the  Austrian  Authorities  of  the 
Province— Curiosity  of  the  Inhabitants— Gentlemanly  Eeception  by  the  Military 
Commandant— Visit  to  Vienna— Singular  Notions  of  the  Austrians  respecting  the 
Americans— Similarity  of  the  Scenery  to  that  of  New  England— Meeting  with 
German  Students— Frequent  Sight  of  Soldiers  and  Military  Preparations— Pictur- 
•saue  Scenery  of  Styria, 100 


CONTENTS.  fe 

PAGE 

LETTER    XL 

Gratz— Vienna, , 109 

LETTER   XII. 

Vienna.— Magnificence  of  the  Emperor's  Manage— The  Young  Queen  of  Hungary— 
The  Palace— Hall  of  Curiosities,  Jewelry,  etc.— The  Polytechnic  School— Geome 
trical  Figures  described  by  the  Vibrations  of  Musical  Notes — Liberal  Provision 
for  the  Public  Institutions — Popularity  of  the  Emperor, 117 

LETTER  XIII. 

Vienna— Palaces  and  Gardens— Mosaic  Copy  of  Da  Vinci's  "  Last  Supper"— Collection 
of  Warlike  Antiquities;  Scanderburg's  Sword,  Montezuma's  Tomahawk,  Kelics 
of  the  Crusaders,  Warriors  in  Armor,  the  Farmer  of  Augsburgh— Eoom  of  Por 
traits  of  Celebrated  Individuals — Gold  Busts  of  Jupiter  and  Juno — The  Glacis,  full 
of  Gardens,  the  General  Eesort  of  the  People— Universal  Spirit  of  Enjoyment- 
Simplicity  and  Confidence  in  the  Manners  of  the  Viennese  —Baden, . . .  < 125 

LETTER  XIY. 

Vienna— The  Palace  of  Liechstenstein, 132 

LETTER  XY. 

The  palace  of  Schoenbrunn— Hietzing,  the  Summer  Eetreat  of  the  Wealthy  Viennese 
— Country-House  of  the  American  Consul— Specimen  of  Pure  Domestic  Happi 
ness  in  a  German  Family— Splendid  Village  Ball— Substantial  Fare  for  the  Ladies 
—Curious  Fashion  of  Cushioning  the  Windows— German  Grief— The  Upper  Belvi- 
dere  Palace— Endless  Quantity  of  Pictures. 189 

LETTER  XYI. 

Departure  from  Vienna— The  Eil- Wagon— Motley  quality  of  the  passengers— Thun 
der-storm  in  the  Mountains  of  Styria— Trieste— Short  beds  of  the  Germans- 
Grotto  of  Adelsburgh— Curious  Ball-Eoom  in  the  Cavern— Nautical  preparations 
for  a  Dance  on  board  the  "  United  States  "  swept  away  by  the  Bora— Its  success- 

fol  termination, j<t8 

1* 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER  XVII. 

Trieste,  its  Extensive  Commerce— Hospitality  of  Mr.  Moore— Kuins  of  Pola— Immense 
Amphitheatre — Village  of  Pola — Coast  of  Dalmatia,  of  Apulia  and  Calabria — Otran- 
to— Sails  for  the  Isles  of  Greece,...  153 


LETTER  XVIII. 

The  lonion  Isles — Lord  and  Lady  Nugent — Corfu — Greek  and  English  Soldiers — 
Cockneyism— The  Gardens  of  Alcinous— English  Officers— Albanians— Dionisio 
Salomos,  the  Greek  Poet— Greek  Ladies— Dinner  with  the  Artillery  Mess, 1C4 


LETTER  XIX. 

Corfu— Unpopularity  of  British  Kule— Superstition  of  the  Greeks— Accuracy  of  the 
Descriptions  in  the  Odyssey — Advantage  of  the  Greek  Costume — ThePaxian  Isles 
—Cape  Leucas.  or  Sappho's  Leap— Bay  of  Navarino,  Ancient  Pylos— Modon— 
Coran's  Bay— Cape  St.  Angelo— Isle  of  Cythera, 171 


LETTER  XX. 

The  Harbor  of  Napoli— Tricoupi  and  Mavrocordato,  Otho's  Cabinet  Counsellors— Col 
onel  Gordon— King  Otho— The  Misses  Armanspergs— Prince  of  Saxe— Miaulis, 
the  Greek  Admiral— Excursion  to  Argos,  the  Ancient  Terynthus, ISO 


LETTER   XXI. 

Visit  from  King  Otho  and  Miaulis— Visits  an  English  and  Kussian  Frigate— Beauty  of 
the  Grecian  men — Lake  Lema — The  Ilerrnionicas  Sinus — Hydra — Efina, 1S9 


LETTER  XXII. 

The  Maid  of  Athens— Romance  and  KealHy— American  Benefactions  to  Greece— A 
Greek  "Wife  and  Scottish  Husband— School  of  Capo  d'Istrias— Grecian  Disinter 
estedness— Kuins  of  the  most  Ancient  Temple — Beauty  of  the  Grecian  Landscape 
— Hope  for  the  Land  of  Epaminoiulas  and  Ariatides, 196 


CONTENTS.  xi 


LETTER  XXIII. 

Athens— Euins  of  the  Parthenon— The  Acropolis— Temple  of  Theseus— The  Oldest 
of  Athenian  Antiquities— Burial-Place  of  the  Son  of  Miaulis— Eeflections  on 
Standing  where  Plato  Taught,  and  Demosthenes  Harangued — Bavarian  Sentinel 
— Turkish  Mosque,  erected  within  the  Sanctuary  of  the  Partheon— "Wretched 
Habitations  of  the  Modern  Athenians, 203 

LETTER  XXIY. 

The  "Lantern  of  Demosthenes  "—Byron's  Eesidence  in  Athens— Temple  of  Jupiter 
Olympus,  Seven  Hundred  Years  in  Building — Superstitious  Fancy  of  the  Athenians 
respecting  its  Euins— Hermitage  of  a  Oreek  Monk— Petarches,  the  Antiquary  and 
Poet,  and  his  Wife,  Sister  to  the  "  Maid  of  Athens  " — Mutilation  of  a  Basso  Ee- 
lievo  by  an  English  Officer— The  Elgin  Marbles— The  Caryatides— Lord  Byron's 
Autograph— Attachment  of  the  Greeks  to  Dr.  Howe— The  Sliding  Stone— A  Scene 
in  the  Eostrum  of  Demosthenes, 210 

LETTER  XXY. 

The  Prison  of  Socrates— Turkish  Stirrups  and  Saddles— Plato's  Academy— Tho  Ame 
rican  Missionary  School  at  Athens— The  Son  of  Petarches  and  Nephew  of  "  Mrs. 
Black  of  Egina," 211 

LETTER  XXYI. 

Tha  Piraeus— The  Sacra  Yia— Euins  of  Eleusis— Gigantic  Medallion— Costume  of  the 
Athenian  Women— The  Tomb  of  Themistoclos— The  Temple  of  Minerva— Auto 
graphs, 224 

LETTER  XXYII. 

Mytilene— The  Tomb  of  Achilles— Turkish  Burying  Ground— Lost  Eeputation  of  the 
Scarnander— Asiatic  Sunsets— Visit  to  a  Turkish  Bey— The  Castles  of  the  Darda 
nelles — Turkish  Bath,  and  its  Consequences, ,. 231 

LETTER  XXYIII. 

A  Turkish  Pic-Nic,  on  the  plain  of  Troy— Fingers  vs.  Forks— Trieste— The  Bos- 
chetto— Graceful  Freedom  of  Italian  Manners— A  Eural  Fete— Fireworks— Ama 
teur  Musicians, 233 


xii  CONTENTS. 


LETTER  XXIX. 
/  1 


The  Dardanelles— Visit  from  the  Pacha— His  Delight  at  hearing  the  Piano— Turkish 
Fountains—Caravan  of  Mules  laden  with  Grapes— Turkish  Mode  of  Living- 
Houses,  Cafes,  and  Women — The  Mosque  and  the  Muezzin — American  Consul  of 
the  Dardanelles,  another  Caleb  Quotem, . .  248 


LETTER  XXX. 

Turkish  Military  Life— A  Visit  to  the  Camp— Turkish  Music— Sunsets— The  Sea  of 
Marmora, -. 


LETTER  XXXI. 

Gallipoli— Aristocracy  of  Beards— Turkish  Shopkeepers— The  Hospitable  Jew  and  lila 
lovely  Daughter— Unexpected  Rencontre— Constantinople— The  Bosphorus.  the 
Seraglio,  and  the  Golden  Horn, 


LETTER  XXXII. 

Constantinople— An  Adventure  with  the  Dogs  of  Stamboul— The  Sultan's  Kiosk— 
The  Bazaars— Georgians— Sweetmeats— Ilindoostanoe  Fakeers— Turkish  Women 
and  their  Eyes— The  Jews— A.  Token  of  Home— The  Drug  Bazaar— Opium 

..  2T2 


LETTER  XXXIII. 

The  Sultan's  Perfumer— Etiquette  of  Smoking— Temptations  for  Purchasers— Exqui 
site  Flavor  of  tlifr£*irt.ish  Perfumes— The  Slave  Market  of  Constantinople— Slaves 
from  various  Countries,  Greek,  Circassian,  Egyptian,  Persian— African  Female 
Slaves— An  Improvisatrice— Exposure  for  Sale -Circassian  Beauties  prohibited  to 
Europeans— First  sight  of  one,  eating  a  Pie— Shock  to  Eomantic  Feelings— Beau 
tiful  Arab  Girl  chained  to  the  Floor— The  Silk  Merchant— A  cheap  Purchase,... .  230 


LETTER  XXXIV. 

The  Bosphorus— Turkish  Palaces—The  Black  Sea— Buyukdere, 287 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER  XXXV. 

The  Golden  Horn  and  its  Scenery— The  Sultan's  Wives  and  Arabians— The  Valley 
of  Sweet  Waters— Beauty  of  the  Turkish  Minarets— The  Mosque  of  Sulymanye— 
Mussulmans  at  their  Devotions— The  Muezzin—The  Bazar  of  the  Opium-eaters— 
The  Mad  House  of  Constantinople,  and  Description  of  its  inmates— Their  Wretched 
Treatment— The  Hippodrome  and  the  Mosque  of  Sultan  Achmet— The  Janizaries 
— Inflections  on  the  Past,  the  Present,  and  the  Future, 294 


LETTER  XXXVI. 

Sultan  Mahmoud  at  his  Devotions — Comparative  Splendor  of  Papal,  Austrian,  and 
Turkish  Equipages — The  Sultan's  Barge  or  Caique — Description  of  the  Sultan — 
Visit  to  a  Turkish  Lancasterian  School— The  Dancing  Dervishes— Visit  from  the 
Sultan's  Cabinet— The  Seraskier  and  the  Capitan  Pacha— Humble  Origin  of  Turk 
ish  Dignitaries, , 805 


LETTER  XXXVII. 

The  Grand  Bazar  of  Constantinople,  and  its  infinite  Variety  of  Wonders— Silent 
Shopkeepers— Female  Curiosity— Adventure  with  a  Black-Eyed  Stranger— The 
Bezestein — The  Strong-hold  of  Orientalism — Picture  of  a  Dragoman — The  Kibaub- 
Shop — A  Dinner  without  Knives,  Forks,  or  Chairs — Cistern  of  the  Thousand  and 
One  Columns, 315 


LETTER  XXXVIII. 

Belgrade— The  Cottage  of  Lady  Montague— Turkish  Cemeteries— Natural  Taste  of  the 
Moslems  for  the  Picturesque — A  Turkish  Carriage — Washerwomen  Surprised — 
Gigantic  Forest  Trees—The  Reservoir— Return  to  Constantinople, 823 


LETTER  XXXIX. 

Scutari— Tomb  of  the  Sultana  Valide— Mosque  of  the  Howling  Dervishes— A  Clerical 
Shoemaker— Visit  to  a  Turkish  Cemetery— Bird's-Eye  View  of  Stamboul  and  its 
Environs— Seraglio-Point— The  Seven  Towers, 331 


xiv  CONTENTS. 


LETTER  XL. 


Beauties  of  the  Bosphorus— Summer-Palace  of  the  Sultan— Adventure  with  an  old 
Turkish  "Woman— The  Feast  of  Bairam— Tho  Sultan  his  own  Butcher— His  Evil 
Propensities— Yisit  to  the  Mosques— A  Formidable  Dervish— Santa  Sophia- 
Mosque  of  Sultan  Achmet— Traces  of  Christianity, 833 


LETTER  XLI. 

Unerring  Detection  of  Foreigners— A  Cargo  of  Odalisques— The  Fanar,  or  Quarter  of 
the  Greeks — Street  of  the  Booksellers — Aspect  of  Antiquity— Purchases — Charity 
for  Dogs  and  Pigeons— Punishment  of  Canicide— A  Bridal  Procession— Turkish 
Female  Physiognomy, 345 


LETTER   XLII. 

The  Perfection  of  Bathing— Pipes— Downy  Cushions— Coffeo— Kubbing  Down— 
"  Circular  Justice,"  as  displayed  in  the  Eetribution  of  Boiled  Lobsters— A  Deluge 
of  Suds— The  Shampoo— Luxurious  Helps  to  the  Imagination— A  Pedestrian  Ex 
cursion—Story  of  an  American  Tar,  burdened  with  Small  Change— Beauty  of  the 
Turkish  Children— A  Civilized  Monster— Glimpse  of  Sultan  Mahmoud  in  an  111- 
Huinor. • 


LETTER  XLIII. 

Punishment  of  Conjugal  Infidelity— Drowning  in  the  Bosphorus— Frequency  of  its 
occurrence  accounted  for— A  Band  of  Wild  Eoumeliotes— Their  Picturesque  Ap 
pearance— All  Pacha,  of  Tanina— A  Turkish  Funeral— Fat  Widow  of  Sultan 
Seliin— A  Yisit  to  tho  Sultan's  Summer  Palace— A  Travelling  Moslem— Unex 
pected  Token  of  Home 860 

LETTER  XLIV. 

Farewell  to  Constantinople— Europe  and  tho  East  compared— The  Departure— Smyr 
na,  the  Great  Mart  for  Figs— An  Excursion  into  Asia  Minor— Travelling  Equip 
ments—Character  of  the  Hajjis— Encampment  of  Gipsies— A  Youthful  Hebe- 


Note— Horror  of  tho  Turks  for  the  "  Unclean  Animal"— An  Anecdote,. 


CONTENTS.  xv 


PAGB 

LETTER  XLY. 

Natural  Statue  of  Niobe— The  Thorn  of  Syria  and  itsTradition— Approach  to  Magnesia 
—Hereditary  Kesidence  of  the  Family  of  Bey-Oglou— Character  of  its  Present  Oc 
cupant — The  Truth  about  Oriental  Caravanserais — Comforts  and  Appliances  they 
yield  to  Travellers— Figaro  of  the  Turks— The  Pilaw— Morning  Scene  at  the  De 
parture— Playful  Familiarity  of  a  Solemn  old  Turk— Magnificent  Prospect  from 
Mount  Cypilus, 375 

LETTER    XLYI. 

The  Eye  of  the  Camel— Eocky  Sepulchres— Virtue  of  an  old  Passport  backed  by  Im 
pudence—Temple  of  Cybelet— Palace  of  Crcesus-rAncient  Church  of  Sardis— Ee- 
turn  to  Smyrna,. 888 

LETTER  XLVII. 

Smyrna— Charms  of  its  Society— Hospitality  of  Foreign  Eesldents— Tho  Marina— The 
Casino -A  Narrow  Escape  from  the  Plagues-Departure  of  the  Frigate— High  Char 
acter  of  the  American  Navy— A  Tribute  of  Eespect  and  Gratitude— The  Farewell,  890 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN 


LETTER  I. 

Cruise  in  the  Frigate  United  States— Elbar-Piombino— Porto  Ferrajo— Appearance  of  the 
Bay— Naval  Discipline— Visit  to  the  Town  Eesidonce  of  Napoleon— His  Employment 
during  his  Confinement  on  the  Island — His  sisters  Eliza  and  Pauline — His  Country- 
House—Simplicity  of  the  Inhabitants  of  Elba. 

I  HAD  come  from  Florence  to  join  the  "  United  States," 
at  the  polite  invitation  of  the  officers  of  the  ward-room,  on  a 
cruise  up  the  Mediterranean.  My  cot  was  swung  immediately 
on  my  arrival,  but  we  lay  three  days  longer  than  was  expected  in 
the  harbor,  riding  out  a  gale  of  wind,  which  broke  the  chain 
cables  of  both  ships,  and  drove  several  merchant  vessels  on  the 
rocks.  We  got  under  way  on  the  third  of  June,  and  the  next 
morning  were  off  Elba,  with  Corsica  on  our  quarter,  and  the 
little  island  of  Capreja  just  ahead. 

The  firing  of  guns  took  me  just  now  to  the  deck.  Three 
Sardinian  gun-boats  had  saluted  the  commodore's  flag  in  passing, 
and  it  was  returned  with  twelve  guns.  They  were  coming  home 
from  the  affair  at  Tunis.  It  is  a  fresh,  charming  morning,  and 
we  are  beating  up  against  a  light  head-wind,  all  the  officers  on 
deck,  looking  at  the  island  with  their  glasses,  and  discussing  the 


18          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


various  directions  for  a  ramble,  and  I,  tempted  with  the  beauty 
of  the  ravine  which  enclosed  the  villa  of  Napoleon,  declined  all 
invitations  with  an  eye  to  a  stroll  thither. 

We  were  first  set  ashore  at  the  mole  to  see  the  town.  A 
medley  crowd  of  soldiers,  citizens,  boys,  girls,  and  galley-slaves, 
received  us  at  the  landing,  and  followed  us  up  to  the  town-square, 
gazing  at  the  officers  with  undisguised  curiosity.  We  met  several 
gentlemen  from  the  other  ship  at  the  cafe,  and  taking  a  cicerone 
together,  started  for  the  town-residence  of  the  emperor.  It  is 
now  occupied  by  the  governor,  and  stands  on  the  summit  of  the 
little  fortified  city.  We  mounted  by  clean,  excellent  pavements, 
getting  a  good-natured  "  buon  giorno  /"  from  every  female  head 
thrust  from  beneath  the  blinds  of  the  houses.  The  governor's 
aid  received  us  at  the  door,  with  his  cap  in  his  hand,  and  we 
commenced  the  tour  of  the  rooms  with  all  the  household,  male 
and  female,  following  to  gaze  at  us.  Napoleon  lived  on  the  first 
floor.  The  rooms  were  as  small  as  those  of  a  private  house,  and 
painted  in  the  pretty  fresco  common  in  Italy.  The  furniture  was 
all  changed,  and  the  fireplaces  and  two  bu?ts  of  the  emperor's 
sisters  (Eliza  and  Pauline)  were  all  that  remained  as  it  was. 
The  library  is  a  pretty  room,  though  very  small,  and  opens  on  a 
terrace  level  with  his  favorite  garden.  The  plants  and  lemon- 
fr.-fs  were  planted  by  himself,  we  were  told,  and  the  officers 
.  i  ick>;d  souvenirs  on  all  sides.  The  officer  who  accompanied  us 
was  an  old  soldier  of  Napoleon's,  and  a  native  of  Elba,  and  after 
a  little  of  the  reluctance  common  to  the  teller  of  an  oft-told  tale, 
he  gave  us  some  interesting  particulars  of  the  emperor's  residence 
at  the  island.  It  appears  that  he  employed  himself,  from  the 
first  day  of  his  arrival,  in  the  improvement  of  his  little  territory, 
making  roads,  &c.,  and  behaved  quite  like  a  man  who  had  made 


ON    BOARD  AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  19 


up  his  mind  to  relinquish  ambition,  and  content  himself  with 
what  was  about  him.  Three  assassins  were  discovered  and 
captured  in  the  course  of  the  eleven  months,  the  first  two  of 
whom  he  pardoned.  The  third  made  an  attempt  upon  his  life, 
in  the  disguise  of  a  beggar,  at  a  bridge  leading  to  his  country- 
house,  and  was  condemned  and  executed.  He  was  a  native  of 
the  emperor's  own  birthplace  in  Corsica. 

The  second  floor  was  occupied  by  his  mother  and  Pauline. 
The  furniture  of  the  chamber  of  the  renowned  beauty  is  very 
much  as  she  left  it.  The  bed  is  small,  and  the  mirror  opposite 
its  foot  very  large,  and  in  a  mahogany  frame.  Small  mirrors 
were  set  also  into  the  bureau,  and  in  the  back  of  a  pretty 
cabinet  of  dark  wood  standing  at  the  head  of  the  bed.  It  is 
delightful  to  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  a  room  that  has  been  the 
home  of  the  lovely  creature  whose  marble  image  by  Canova 
thrills  every  beholder  with  love,  and  is  fraught  with  such 
pleasing  associations.  Her  sitting-room,  though  less  interesting, 
made  us  linger  and  muse  again.  It  looks  out  over  the  sea  to  the 
west,  and  the  prospect  is  beautiful.  One  forgets  that  her  history 
could  not  be  written  without  many  a  blot.  How  much  we  forgive 
to  beauty  !  Of  all  the  female  branches  of  the  Bonaparte  family, 
Pauline  bore  the  greatest  resemblance  to  her  brother  Napoleon. 
But  the  grand  and  regular  profile  which  was  in  him  marked  with 
the  stern  air  of  sovereignty  and  despotic  rule,  was  in  her 
tempered  with  an  enchanting  softness  and  fascinating  smile. 
Her  statue,  after  the  Venus  de  Medicis,  is  the  chef  cPauwe  of 
modern  sculpture. 

We  went  from  the  governor's  house  to  the  walls  of  the  town, 
loitering  along  and  gazing  at  the  sea  ;  and  then  rambled  through 
the  narrow  streets  of  ih<>  town,  attracting,  by  the  gay  uniforms 


20          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


of  tlie  officers,  the  attention  and  courtesies  of  every  smooched 
petticoat  far  and  near.  What  the  faces  of  the  damsels  of  Elba 
might  be,  if  washed,  we  could  hardly  form  a  conjecture. 

The  country-house  of  Napoleon  is  three  miles  from  the  town, 
a  little  distance  from  the  shore,  farther  round  into  the  bay. 
Captain  Nicholson  proposed  to  walk  to  it,  and  send  his  boat 
across — a  warmer  task  for  the  mid-day  of  an  Italian  June  than  a 
man  of  less  enterprise  would  choose  for  pleasure.  We  reached 
the  stone  steps  of  the  imperial  casino,  after  a  melting  and 
toilsome  walk,  hungry  and  thirsty,  and  were  happy  to  fling 
ourselves  upon  broken  chairs  in  the  denuded  drawing-room,  and 
wait  for  an  extempore  dinner  of  twelve  eggs  and  a  bottle  of  wine 
as  bitter  as  criticism.  "A  farmer  and  his  family  live  in  the  house, 
and  a  couple  of  bad  busts  and  the  fireplaces,  are  all  that  remain 
of  its  old  appearance.  The  situation  and  the  view,  however,  are 
superb.  A  little  lap  of  a  valley  opens  right  away  from  the  door 
to  the  bosom  of  the  bay,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  glassy  basin  lies 
the  bold  peninsular  promontory  and  fortification  of  Porto 
Ferrajo,  like  a  castle  in  a  loch,  connected  with  the  body  of  the 
island  by  a  mere  rib  of  sand.  Off  beyond  sleeps  the  main-land 
of  Italy,  mountain  and  vale,  like  a  smoothly-shaped  bed  of 
clouds  ;  and  for  the  foreground  of  the  landscape,  the  valleys  of 
Elba  are  just  now  green  with  fig-trees  and  vines,  speckled  here 
and  there  with  fields  of  golden  grain,  and  farm-houses  shaded 
with  all  the  trees  of  this  genial  climate. 

We  examined  the  place,  after  our  frugal  dinner,  and  found  a 
natural  path  under  the  edge  of  the  hill  behind,  stretching  away 
back  into  the  valley,  and  leading,  after  a  short  walk,  to  a  small 
stream  and  a  waterfall.  Across  it,  just  above  the  fall,  lay  the 
trunk  of  an  old  and  vigorous  fig-tree,  full  of  green  limbs,  and 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  21 


laden  with  fruit  half  ripe.  It  made  a  natural  bridge  over  the 
stream,  and  as  its  branches  shaded  the  rocks  below,  we  could 
easily  imagine  Napoleon,  walking  to  and  fro  in  the  smooth  path, 
and  seating  himself  on  the  broadest  stone  in  the  heat  of  the 
summer  evenings  he  passed  on  the  spot.  It  was  the  only  walk 
about  the  place,  and  a  secluded  and  pleasant  one.  The  groves 
of  firs  and  brush  above,  and  the  locust  and  cherry-trees  on  the 
edges  of  the  walk,  are  old  enough  to  have  shaded  him.  "We  sat 
and  talked  under  the  influence  of  the  "  genius  of  the  spot,"  till 
near  sunset,  and  then,  cutting  each  a  walking-stick  from  the 
shoots  of  the  old  fig-tree,  returned  to  the  boats  and  reached  the 
ship  as  the  band  sirm-l:  u  )  their  exhilarating  music  for  the 
evening  on  the  qu^.  lor-deck. 


We  have  passed  two  or  three  days  at  Elba  most  agreeably. 
The  weather  has  been  fine,  and  the  ships  have  been  thronged 
with  company.  The  common  people  of  the  town  come  on  board 
in  boat-loads,  men,  women,  and  children,  and  are  never  satisfied 
with  gazing  and  wondering.  The  inhabitants'  speak  very  pure 
Tuscan,  and  are  mild  and  simple  in  their  manners.  They  all 
take  the  ships  to  be  bound  upon  a  mere  voyage  of  pleasure  ; 
and,  with  the  officers  in  their  gay  dresses,  and  the  sailors  in  their 
clean  white  and  blue,  the  music  morning  and  evening,  and  the 
general  gayety  on  board,  the  impression  is  not  much  to  be 
wondered  at. 

Yesterday,  after  dinner,  Captain  Nicholson  took  us  ashore  in 
his  gig,  to  pass  an  hour  or  two  in  the  shade.  His  steward 
followed,  with  a  bottle  or  two  of  old  wine,  and  landing  near  the 


22          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN   THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


fountain  to  which  the  boats  are  sent  for  water,  we  soon  found  a 
spreading  fig-tree,  and,  with  a  family  of  the  country  people  from 
a  neighboring  cottage  around  us,  we  idled  away  the  hours  till  the 
cool  of  the  evening.  The  simplicity  of  the  old  man  and  his  wife, 
and  the  wonder  of  himself  and  several  laborers  in  his  vineyard, 
to  whom  the  captain  gave  a  glass  or  two  of  his  excellent  wines, 
would  have  made  a  study  for  Wilkie.  Sailors  are  merry 
companions  for  a  party  like  this.  We  returned  over  the  unruffled 
expanse  of  the  bay,  charmed  with  the  beauty  of  the  scene  by 
sunset,  and  as  happy  as  a  life,  literally  sans  souci,  could  make  us. 
What  is  it,  in  this  rambling  absence  from  all  to  which  we  look 
forward  to  in  love  and  hope,  that  so  fascinates  the  imagination  ? 


I  went,  in  the  commodore's  suite,  to  call  upon  the  governor 
this  morning.  He  is  a  military,  commanding-looking  man,  and 
received  us  in  Napoleon's  saloon,  surrounded  by  his  officers.  He 
regretted  that  his  commission  did  not  permit  him  to  leave  the 
shore,  even  to  visit  a  ship,  but  offered  a  visit  on  the  part  of  his 
sister  and  a  company  of  the  first  ladies  of  the  town.  They  came 
off  this  morning.  She  was  a  lady-like  woman,  not  very  pretty, 
of  thirty  years  perhaps.  As  she  spoke  only  Italian,  she  was 
handed  over  to  me,  and  I  waited  on  her  through  the  ship, 
explaining  a  great  many  things  of  which  I  knew  as  much  as 
herself.  This  visit  over,  we  get  under  way  to-morrow  morning 
for  Naples. 


LETTER  II. 

Visit  to  Naples,  Herculaneum,  and  Pompeii. 

I  HAVE  passed  my  first  day  in  Naples  in  wandering  about, 
without  any  definite  object.  I  have  walked  around  its  famous 
bay,  looked  at  the  lazzaroni,  watched  the  smoke  of  Vesuvius, 
traversed  the  square  where  the  young  Conrad.ne  was  beheaded 
and  Masaniello  commenced  his  revolt,  mounted  to  the  castle  of 
St.  Elmo,  and  dined  on  macaroni  in  a  trattoria,  where  the  Italian 
I  had  learned  in  Tuscany  was  of  little  more  use  to  me  than 
Greek. 

The  lay  surprised  me  most.  It  is  a  collection  of  beauties, 
which  seems  more  a  miracle  than  an  accident  of  nature.  It  is  a 
deep  crescent  of  sixteen  miles  across,  and  a  little  more  in  length, 
between  the  points  of  which  lies  a  chain  of  low  mountains,  called 
the  island  of  Capri,  looking,  from  the  shore,  like  a  vast  heap  of 
clouds  brooding  at  sea.  In  the  bosom  of  the  crescent  lies 
Naples.  Its  palaces  and  principal  buildings  cluster  around  the 
base  of  an  abrupt  hill  crowned  by  the  castle  of  St.  Elmo,  and  its 
half  million  of  inhabitants  have  stretched  their  dwellings  over 
the  plain  toward  Vesuvius,  and  back  upon  Posilipo,  bordering 
the  curve  of  the  shore  on  the  right  and  left,  with  a  broad  white 
l?and  of  city  and  village  for  twelve  or  fourteen  miles.  Back  from 


24          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN   THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


this,  on  the  southern  side,  a  very  gradual  ascent  brings  your  eye 
to  the  base  of  Vesuvius,  which  rises  from  the  plain  in  a  sharp 
cone,  broken  in  at  the  top,  its  black  and  lava-streaked  sides 
descending  with  the  evennesss  of  a  sand-hill,  on  one  side  to  the 
disinterred  city  of  Pompeii,  and  on  the  other  to  the  royal  palace 
of  Portici,  built  over  the  yet  unexplored  Herculaneum.  In  ihe 
centre  of  the  crescent  of  the  shore,  projecting  into  the  sea  by  a 
bridge  of  two  or  three  hundred  feet  in  length,  stands  a  small 
castle  built  upon  a  rock,  on  one  side  of  which  lies  the  mole  with 
its  shipping.  The  other  side  is  bordered,  close  to  the  beach, 
with  the  gardens  of  the  royal  villa,  a  magnificent  promenade  of  a 
mile,  ornamented  with  fancy  temples  and  statuary,  on  the  smooth 
alleys  of  which  may  be  met,  at  certain  hours,  all  that  is  brilliant 
and  gay  in  Naples.  Farther  on,  toward  the  northern  horn  of  the 
bay,  lies  the  mount  of  Posilipo,  the  ancient  coast  of  Baise,  Cape 
Mysene,  and  the  mountain  isles  of  Procida  and  Ischia,  the  last 
of  which  still  preserves  the  costumes  of  Greece,  from  which  it 
was  colonized  centuries  ago.  The  bay  itself  is  as  blue  as  the  sky, 
scarcely  ruffled  all  day  with  the  wind,  and  covered  by  countless 
boats  fishing  or  creeping  on  with  their  picturesque  lateen  sails 
just  filled  ;  while  the  atmosphere  over  sea,  city,  and  mountain, 
is  of  a  clearness  and  brilliancy  which  is  inconceivable  in  other 
countries.  The  superiority  of  the  sky  and  climate  of  Italy  is  no 
fable  in  any  part  of  this  delicious  land — but  in  Naples,  if  the 
day  1  have  spent  here  is  a  fair  specimen,  it  is  matchless  even  for 
Italy.  There  is  something  like  a  fine  blue  veil  of  a  most  dazzling 
transparency  over  the  mountains  around,  but  above  and  between 
there  seems  nothing  but  viewless  space — nothing  like  air  that  a 
bird  could  rise  upon.  The  eye  gets  intoxicated  almost  with 
gazing  on  it. 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  25 


We  have  just  returned  from  our  first  excursion  to  Pompeii. 
It  lies  on  the  southern  side  of  the  bay,  just  below  the  volcano 
which  overwhelmed  it,  about  twelve  miles  from  Naples.  The 
road  lay  along  the  shore,  and  is  lined  with  villages,  which  are 
only  separated  by  name.  The  first  is  Portici,  where  the  king  has 
a  summer  palace,  through  the  court  of  which  the  road  passes. 
It  is  built  over  Herculaneum,  and  the  danger  of  undermining  it 
has  stopped  the  excavations  of  unquestionably  the  richest  city 
buried  by  Vesuvius.  We  stopped  at  a  little  gate  in  the  midst  of 
the  village,  and  taking  a  guide  and  two  torches,  descended  to  the 
only  part  of  it  now  visible,  by  near  a  hundred  steps.  We  found 
ourselves  at  the  back  of  an  amphitheatre.  We  entered  the 
narrow  passage,  and  the  guide  pointed  to  several  of  the  upper 
seats  for  the  spectators  which  had  been  partially  dug  out.  They 
were  lined  with  marble,  as  the  whole  amphitheatre  appears  to 
have  been.  To  realize  the  effect  of  these  ruins,  it  is  to  be 
remembered  that  they  are  imbedded  in  solid  lava,  like  rock,  near 
a  hundred  feet  deep,  and  that  the  city  which  is  itself  ancient,  is 
built  above  them.  The  carriage  in  which  we  came,  stood  high 
over  our  heads,  in  a  time-worn  street,  and  ages  had  passed  and 
many  generations  of  men  had  lived  and  died  over  a  splendid 
city,  whose  very  name  had  been  forgotten  !  It  was  discovered  in 
sinking  a  well,  which  struck  the  door  of  the  amphitheatre.  The 
guide  took  us  through  several  other  long  passages,  dug  across  and 
around  it,  showing  us  the  orchestra,  the  stage,  the  numerous 
entrances,  and  the  bases  of  several  statues  which  are  taken  to 
the  museum  at  Naples.  This  is  the  only  part  of  the  excavation 
that  remains  open,  the  others  having  again  been  filled  with 
rubbish.  The  noise  of  the  carriages  overhead  in  the  streets  of 

Portici  was  like  a  deafening  thunder. 
2 


26          SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


In  a  hurry  to  get  to  Pompeii,  which  is  much  more  interesting, 
we  ascended  to  daylight,  and  drove  on.  Coasting  along  the 
curve  of  the  bay,  with  only  a  succession  of  villas  and  gardens 
between  us  and  the  beach,  we  soon  came  to  Torre  del  Greco,  a 
small  town  which  was  overwhelmed  by  an  eruption  thirty-nine 
years  ago.  Vesuvius  here  rises  gradually  on  the  left,  the  crater 
being  at  a  distance  of  five  miles.  The  road  crossed  the  bed  of 
dry  lava,  which  extends  to  the  sea  in  a  broad,  black  mass  of 
cinders,  giving  the  country  the  most  desolate  aspect.  The  town 
is  rebuilt  just  beyond  the  ashes,  and  the  streets  are  crowded  with 
the  thoughtless  inhabitants,  who  buy  and  sell,  and  lounge  in  the 
sun,  with  no  more  remembrance  or  fear  of  the  volcano,  than  the 
people  of  a  city  in  America. 

Another  half  hour  brought  us  to  a  long,  high  bank  of  earth  and 
ashes,  thrown  out  from  the  excavations ;  and,  passing  on,  we 
stopped  at  the  gate  of  Pompeii.  A  guide  met  us,  and  we 
entered.  We  found  ourselves  in  the  ruins  of  a  public  square, 
surrounded  with  small  low  columns  of  red  marble.  On  the 
right  were  several  small  prisons,  in  one  of  which  was  found  the 
skeleton  of  a  man  with  its  feet"  in  iron  stocks.  The  cell  was 
very  small,  and  the  poor  fellow  must  have  been  suffocated  with 
out  even  a  hope  of  escape.  The  columns  just  in  front  were 
scratched  with  ancient  names,  possibly  those  of  the  guard  sta 
tioned  at  the  door  of  the  prison.  This  square  is  surrounded  with 
shops,  in  which  were  found  the  relics  and  riches  of  tradesmen, 
consisting  of  an  immense  variety.  In  one  of  the  buildings  was 
found  the  skeleton  of  a  newborn  child,  and  in  one  part  of  the 
square  the  skeletons  of  sixty  men,  supposed  to  be  soldiers,  who, 
in  the  severity  ot  Roman  discipline,  dared  not  fly,  and  perished 
at  their  post.  There  were  several  advertisements  of  gladiatora 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  27 


on  the  pillars,  and  it  appears  that  at  the  time  of  the  eruption  the 
inhabitants  of  Pompeii  were  principally  assembled  in  the  great 
amphitheatre,  at  a  show. 

We  left  the  square,  and  visiting  several  small  private  houses 
near  it,  passed  into  a  street  with  a  slight  ascent,  the  pavement  of 
which  was  worn  deep  with  carriage-wheels.  It  appeared  to  have 
led  from  the  upper  part  of  the  city  directly  to  the  sea,  and  in 
rainy  weather  must  have  been  quite  a  channel  for  water,  as  high 
stones  at  small  distances  were  placed  across  the  street,  leaving 
open  places  between  for  the  carriage  wheels.  (I  think  there  is 
a  contrivance  of  the  same  kind  in  one  of  the  streets  of  Balti 
more.) 

We  mounted  thence  to  higher  ground,  the  part  of  the  city  not 
excavated.  A  peasant's  hut  and  a  large  vineyard  stand  high 
above  the  ruins,  and  from  the  door  the  whole  city  and  neighbor 
hood  are  seen  to  advantage.  The  effect  of  the  scene  is 
strange  beyond  description.  Columns,  painted  walls,  wheelworn 
streets,  amphitheatres,  palaces,  all  as  lonely  and  deserted  as  the 
grave,  stand  around  you,  and  behind  is  a  poor  cottage  and  a 
vineyard  of  fresh  earth  just  putting  forth  its  buds,  and  beyond, 
the  broad,  blue,  familiar  bay,  covered  with  steamboats  and  sails, 
and  populous  modern  Naples  in  the  distance — a  scene  as 
strangely  mingled,  perhaps,  as  any  to  be  found  in  the  world. 
We  looked  around  for  a  while,  and  then  walked  on  through  the 
vineyard  to  the  amphitheatre  which  lies  beyond,  near  the  other 
gate  of  the  city.  It  is  a  gigantic  ruin,  completely  excavated, 
and  capable  of  containing  twenty  thousand  spectators.  The 
form  is  oval,  and  the  architecture  particularly  fine.  Besides  the 
many  vomitories  or  passages  for  ingress  and  egress,  there  are 
three  smaller  alleys,  one  used  as  the  entrance  for  wild  beasts, 


28  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


one  for  the  gladiators,  and  the  third  as  that  by  which  the  dead 
were  taken  away.  The  skeletons  of  eight  lions  and  a  man,  sup 
posed  to  be  their  keeper,  were  found  in  one  of  the  dens  beneath, 
and  those  of  five  other  persons  near  the  different  doors.  It  is 
presumed  that  the  greater  proportion  of  the  inhabitants  of  Pom 
peii  must  have  escaped  by  sea,  as  the  eruption  occurred  while 
they  were  nearly  all  assembled  on  this  spot,  and  these  few  skele 
tons  only  have  been  found.* 

We  returned  through  the  vineyard,  and  stopping  at  the 
cottage,  called  for  some  of  the  wine  of  the  last  vintage  (delicious, 
like  all  those  in  the  neighborhood  of  Vesuvius),  and  producing 
our  basket  of  provisions,  made  a  most  agreeable  dinner.  Two 
parties  of  English  passed  while  we  were  sitting  at  our  out-of- 
doors  table.  Our  attendant  was  an  uncommonly  pretty  girl  of 
sixteen,  born  on  the  spot,  and  famous  just  now  as  the  object  of  a 
young  English  nobleman's  particular  admiration.  She  is  a  fine, 
dark-eyed  creature,  but  certainly  no  prettier  than  every  fifth 
peasant  girl  in  Italy.  Having  finished  our  picturesque  meal,  we 
went  down  into  the  ancient  streets  once  more,  and  arrived  at  the 
small  temple  of  Ibis,  a  building  in  excellent  preservation.  On 
the  altar  stood,  when  it  was  excavated,  a  small  statue  of  Isis,  of 
exquisite  workmanship  (now  in  the  museum,  to  which  all  the 
curiosities  of  the  place  are  carried),  and  behind  this  we  were 
shown  the  secret  penetralia,  where  the  priests  wore  concealed, 
who  uttered  the  oracles  supposed  to  be  pronounced  by  the  god 
dess.  The  access  was  by  a  small  secret  flight  of  stairs,,  commu 
nicating  with  the  apartments  of  the  priests  in  the  rear.  The 
largest  of  these  apartments  was  probably  the  refectory,  and  here 

*  "  The  number  of  skeletons  hitherto  disinterred  in  Pompeii  and  its 
suburbs  is  three  hundred/'—  Stark. 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  29 


was  found  a  human  skeleton  near  a  table,  upon  which  lay  dinner 
utensils,  chicken  bones,  bones  of  fishes,  bread  and  wine,  and  a 
faded  garland  of  flowers.  In  the  kitchen,  which  we  next  visited, 
were  found  cooking  utensils,  remains  of  food,  and  the  skeleton 
of  a  man  leaning  against  the  wall  with  an  axe  in  his  hand,  and 
near  him  a  considerable  hole,  which  he  had  evidently  cut  to 
make  his  escape  when  the  door  was  stopped  by  cinders.  The 
skeleton  of  one  of  the  priests  was  found  prostrate,  near  the 
temple,  and  in  his  hand  three  hundred  and  sixty  coins  of  silver, 
forty-two  of  bronze,  and  eight  of  gold,  wrapped  strongly  in  a 
cloth.  He  had  probably  stopped  before  his  flight  to  load  him 
self  with  the  treasures  of  the  temple,  and  was  overtaken  by  the 
shower  of  cinders  and  suffocated.  The  skeletons  of  one  or  two 
were  found  upon  beds,  supposed  to  have  been  smothered  while 
asleep  or  ill.  The  temple  is  beautifully  paved  with  mosaic  (as 
indeed  are  all  the  better  private  houses  and  public  buildings  of 
Pompeii),  and  the  open  inner  court  is  bordered  with  a  quadri 
lateral  portico.  The  building  is  of  the  Roman  Doric  order. 
(I  have  neither  time  nor  room  to  enumerate  the  curiosities  found 
here  and  in  the  other  parts  of  the  city,  and  I  only  notice  those 
which  most  impressed  my  memory.  The  enumeration  by  Ma 
dame  Stark,  will  be  found  exceedingly  interesting  to  those  who 
have  not  read  her  laconic  guide-book.) 

We  passed  next  across  a  small  street  to  the  tragic  theatre,  a 
large  handsome  building,  where  the  seats  for  the  vestals,  consuls, 
and  other  plates  of  honor,  are  well  preserved,  and  thence  up 
the  hill  to  the  temple  of  Hercules,  which  must  have  been  a 
noble  edifice,  commanding  a  superb  view  of  the  sea. 

The  next  object  was  the  triangular  forum,  an  open  space 
surrounded  with  three  porticoes,  supported  by  a  hundred  Dorio 


30  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


columns.  Here  were  found  several  skeletons,  one  of  which  was 
that  of  a  man  who  had  loaded  himself  with  plunder.  Gold  and 
silver  coins,  cups,  rings,  spoons,  buckles,  and  other  things,  were 
found  under  him.  Near  here,  under  the  ruins  of  a  wall,  were 
discovered  skeletons  of  a  man  and  a  woman,  and  on  the  arms  of 
the  latter  two  beautiful  bracelets  of  gold. 

We  entered  from  this  a  broad  street,  lined  with  shops,  against 
the  walls  of  which  were  paintings  in  fresco,  and  inscriptions  in 
deep-red  paint,  representing  the  occupations  and  recording  the 
names  of  the  occupants.  In  one  of  them  was  found  a  piece  of 
salt-fish,  smelling  strongly  after  seventeen  centuries  !  In  a  small 
lane  leading  from  this  street,  the  guide  led  us  to  a  shop,  decorated 
with  pictures  of  fish  of  various  kinds,  and  furnished  with  a  stove, 
marble  dressers,  and  earthern  jars,  supposed  to  have  belonged 
to  a  vender  of  fish  and  olives.  A  little  further  on  was  a 
baker's  shop,  with  a  well-used  oven,  in  which  was  found  a 
batch  of  bread  burnt  to  a  cinder.  Near  this  was  the  house  of  a 
midwife.  lu  it  were  found  several  instruments  of  a  simple  and 
excellent  construction,  unknown  to  the  moderns,  a  forceps, 
remains  of  medicines  in  a  wooden  box,  and  various  pestles  and 
mortars.  The  walls  were  ornamented  with  frescoes  of  the 
Graces,  Venus,  and  Adonis,  and  similar  subjects. 

The  temple  of  the  pantheon  is  a  magnificent  ruin,  and  must 
have  been  one  of  the  choicest  in  Pompeii.  Its  walls  are 
decorated  with  exquisite  paintings  in  fresco,  arabesques,  mosaics, 
&c.,  and  its  court  is  one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  long,  and  two 
hundred  and  thirty  broad,  and  contains  an  altar,  around  which 
are  twelve  pedestals  for  statues  of  the  twelve  principal  deities 
of  the  ancients.  Gutters  of  marble  are  placed  at  the  base  of 
the  triclinium,  t)  carry  away  the  blood  of  the  victims.  A 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  31 


thousand  coins  of  bronze,  and  forty  or  fifty  of  silver,  were  found 
near  the  sanctuary. 

We  passed  on  to  the  Curea,  a  semi-circular  building,  for  the 
discussion  of  matters  of  religion  by  the  magistrates  ;  a  temple 
of  Homulus  ;  the  remains  of  a  temple  of  Janus ;  a  splendid 
building  called  the  chalddicum,  constructed  by  the  priestess 
Eumachea  and  her  son,  and  dedicated  as  a  temple  of  concord, 
and  came  at  last,  by  a  regular  ascent,  into  a  large  and  spacious 
square,  called  the  forum  civile.  This  part  of  the  city  of 
Pompeii  must  have  been  extremely  imposing.  Porticoes,  sup 
ported  by  noble  columns,  encompassed  its  vast  area  ;  the 
pedestals  of  colossal  statues,  erected  to  distinguished  citizens, 
are  placed  at  the  corners  ;  at  the  northern  extremity  rose  a 
stately  temple  of  Jupiter  ;  on  the  right  was  another  temple  to 
Venus  ;  beyond,  a  large  public  edifice,  the  use  of  which  is  not 
known  ;  across  the  narrow  street  which  bounds  it  stood  the 
Basilica,  an  immense  building,  which  served  as  a  court  of  justice 
and  an  exchange. 

We  passed  out  at  the  gate  of  the  city  and  stopped  at  a  sentry- 
box,  in  which  was  found  a  skeleton  in  full  armor — a  soldier  who 
had  died  at  his  post !  From  hence  formerly  the  road  descended 
directly  to  the  sea,  and  for  some  distance  was  lined  on  either  side 
with  the  magnificent  tombs  of  the  Pompeians.  Among  them 
was  that  of  the  Vestal  virgins,  left  unfinished  when  the  city  was 
destroyed  ;  a  very  handsome  tomb,  in  which  was  found  the 
skeleton  of  a  woman,  with  a  lamp  in  one  hand  and  jewels  in  the 
other  (who  had  probably  attempted  to  rob  before  her  flight),  and 
a  very  handsome  square  monument,  with  a  beautiful  relievo  on 
one  of  the  slabs,  representing  (as  emblematic  of  death)  a  ship 
furling  her  sails  on  coming  into  port.  Near  one  of  the  large 


32  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


family  sepulchres  stands  a  small  semi-circular  room,  intended  for 
the  funeral  feast  after  a  burial  ;  and  here  were  found  the  remains 
of  three  men  around  a  table,  scattered  with  relics  of  a  meal. 
They  were  overwhelmed  ere  their  feast  was  concluded  over  the 
«.lead  ! 

The  principal  inn  of  Pompeii  was  just  inside  the  gate.  We 
wont  over  the  ruins  of  it.  The  skeleton  of  an  ass  was  found 
chained  to  a  ring  in  the  stable,  and  the  tire  of  a  wheel  lay  in  the 
court  yard.  Chequers  are  painted  on  the  side  of  the  door,  as  a 
sign. 

Below  the  tombs  stands  the  "  suburban  villa  of  Diomed,"  one 
of  the  most  sumptuous  edifices  of  Pompeii.  Here  was  found 
everything  that  the  age  could  furnish  for  the  dwelling  of  a  man 
of  wealth.  Statues,  frescoes,  jewels,  wine,  household  utensils  of 
every  description,  skeletons  of  servants  and  dogs,  and  every  kind 
of  elegant  furniture.  The  family  was  large,  and  in'  the  first 
moment  of  terror,  they  all  retreated  to  a  wine  vault  under  the 
villa,  where  their  skeletons  (eighteen  grown  persons  and  two 
children)  were  found  seventeen  centuries  after  !  There  was 
really  something  startling  in  walking  through  the  deserted  rooms 
of  this  beautiful  villa — more  than  one  feels  elsewhere  in  Pompeii, 
for  it  is  more  like  the  elegance  and  taste  of  our  own  day  ;  and 
with  the  brightness  of  the  preserved  walls,  and  the  certainty  with 
which  the  use  of  each  room  is  ascertained,  it  seems  as  if  the 
living  inhabitant  would  step  from  some  corner  and  welcome  you. 
The  figures  on  the  walls  are  as  fresh  as  if  done  yesterday.  The 
baths  look  as  if  they  might  scarce  be  dry  from  use.  It  seems 
incredible  that  the  whole  Christian  age  has  elapsed  since  this  was 
a  human  dwelling — occupied  b}~  its  last  family  while  our  Savior 
teas  walking  the  world  ! 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  33 


It  would  be  tedious  to  enumerate  all  the  curious  places  to 
which  the  guide  led  us  in  this  extraordinary  city.  On  our 
return  through  the  streets,  among  the  objects  of  interest  was  the 
house  of  Sallust)  the  historian.  I  did  not  think,  when  reading 
his  beautiful  Latin  at  school,  that  I  should  ever  sit  down  in  his 
parlor  !  Sallust  was  rich,  and  his  house  is  uncommonly  hand 
some.  Here  is  his  chamber,  his  inner  court,  his  kitchen,  his 
garden,  his  dining-room,  his  guest-chamber,  all  perfectly  distin 
guishable  by  the  symbolical  frescoes  on  the  wall.  In  the  court 
was  a  fountain  of  pretty  construction,  and  opposite,  in  the  rear, 
was  a  flower-garden,  containing  arrangements  for  dining  in  open 
air  in  summer.  The  skeleton  of  a  female  (supposed  to  be  the 
wife  of  the  historian)  and  three  servants,  known  by  their 
different  ornaments,  were  found  near  the  door  of  the  street. 

We  passed  a  druggist's  shop  and  a  cook-shop,  and  entered, 
treading  on  a  beautiful  mosaic  floor,  the  "  house  of  the  dramatic 
poet,"  so  named,  fiom  the  character  of  the  paintings  with  which 
it  is  ornamented  throughout.  The  frescoes  found  here  are  the 
finest  ancient  paintings  in  the  world,  and  from  some  peculiarity 
in  the  rings  upon  the  fingers  of  the  female  figures,  they  are 
supposed  to  be  family  portraits.  With  assistance  like  this,  how 
easily  the  imagination  repeoples  these  deserted  dwellings ! 

A  heavy  shower  drove  us  to  the  shelter  of  the  wine-vaults  of 
Diomed,  as  we  were  about  stepping  into  our  carriage  to  return  to 
Naples.  We  spent  the  time  in  exploring,  and  found  some  thirty 
or  forty  earthern  jars  still  half-buried  in  the  ashes  which  drifted 
through  the  loop-holes  of  the  cellar.  In  another  half  hour  the 
black  cloud  had  passed  away  over  Vesuvius,  and  the  sun  set 
behind  Posilipo  in  a  flood  of  splendor.  We  were  at  home  soon 
after  dark,  having  had  our  fill  of  astonishment  for  once.  I  have 
2* 


34          SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN. 

seen  nothing  in  my  life  so  remarkable  as  this  disentombed  city. 
I  have  passed  over,  in  the  description,  many  things  which  were 
well  worth  noting,  but  it  would  have  grown  into  a  mere  catalogue 
else.  You  should  come  to  Italy.  It  is  a  privilege  to  realize 
these  things  which  could  not  be  bought  too  dearly,  and  they 
cannot  be  realized  but  by  the  eye.  Description  conveys  but  a 
poor  shadow  of  them  to  the  fancy 


LETTER  III, 

Account  of  Vesuvius—The  Hermitage— The  famous  Lagrima  Christi— Difficulties  of  the 
Patli — Curious  Appearance  of  the  Old  Crater — Odd  Assemblage  of  Travellers — Tho 
New  Crater— Splendid  Prospect— Mr.  Mathias,  Author  of  the  Pursuits  of  Literature— 
The  Archbishop  of  Tarento. 

MOUNTED  upon  asses  much  smaller  than  their  riders,  and  with 
each  a  barelegged  driver  behind,  we  commenced  the  ascent  of 
Vesuvius.  It  was  a  troublesome  path  worn  through  the  rough 
scoria  of  old  eruptions,  and  after  two  hours'  toiling,  we  were 
glad  to  dismount  at  "  the  hermitage."  Here  lives  a  capuchin 
friar  on  a  prominent  rib  in  the  side  of  the  volcano,  the  red-hot 
lava  dividing  above  his  dwelling  every  year  or  two,  and  coursing 
away  to  the  valley  in  two  rivers  of  fire  on  either  side  of  him. 
He  has  been  there  twelve  years,  and  supports  himself,  and 
probably  half  the  brotherhood  at  the  monastery,  by  selling 
lagrima  Chrisli  to  strangers.  It  is  a  small  white  building  with  a 
little  grass  and  a  few  trees  about  it,  and  looks  like  an  island  in 
the  black  waste  of  cinders  and  lava. 

A  shout  from  the  guide  was  answered  by  the  opening  of  a 
small  window  above,  and  the  shaven  crown  of  the  old  friar  was 
thrust  forth  with  a  welcome  and  a  request  that  we  would  mount 
the  stairs  to  the  parlor.  He  received  us  at  the  top,  and  gave  us 
chairs  around  a  plain  to.sd  table,  upon  which  he  set  several 


36          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


bottles  of  the  far-famed  wine  of  Vesuvius.  One  drinks  it,  and 
blesses  the  volcano  that  warmed  the  roots  of  the  grape.  It  is  a 
ripe,  rich,  full-bodied  liquor,  which  "  ascends  me  into  the  brain" 
sooner  than  any  continental  wine  I  have  tasted.  I  never  drank 
anything  more  delicious. 

We  remounted  our  asses  and  rode  on,  much  more  indifferent 
than  before,  to  the  roughness  of  the  path.  It  strikes  one 
like  the  road  to  the  infernal  regions.  No  grass,  not  a 
shrub,  nothing  but  a  wide  mountain  of  cinders,  black  aud 
rugged,  diversified  only  by  the  deeper  die  of  the  newer  streaks 
of  lava.  The  eye  wearied  of  gazing  on  it.  We  mounted  thus 
for  an  hour  or  more,  arriving  at  last  at  the  base  of  a  lofty  cone 
whose  sides  were  but  slopes  of  deep  ashes.  We  left  our  donkeys 
here  in  company  with  those  of  a  large  party  that  had  preceded 
us,  and  made  preparations  to  ascend  on  foot.  The  drivers 
unlaced  their  sashes,  and  passing  them  round  the  waists  of  the 
ladies,  took  the  ends  over  their  shoulders,  and  proceeded. 
Harder  work  could  scarce  be  conceived.  The  feet  had  no 
hold,  sinking  knee-deep  at  every  step,  and  we  slipped  back  so 
much,  that  our  progress  was  almost  imperceptible.  The  ladies 
were  soon  tired  out,  although  more  than  half  dragged  up  by  the 
guides.  At  every  few  steps  there  was  a  general  cry  for  a  halt, 
and  we  lay  down  in  the  warm  ashes,  quite  breathless  and 
discouraged. 

In  something  more  than  an  hour  from  the  hermitage  we 
reached  the  edge  of  the  old  crater.  The  scene  here  was  very 
curious.  A  hollow,  perhaps  a  mile  round,  composed  entirely  of 
scoria  (like  the  cinders  under  a  blacksmith's  window)  contained 
in  its  centre  the  sharp  new  cone  of  the  last  eruption.  Around, 
in  various  directions,  sat  some  thirty  groups  of  travellers,  with 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  37 

each  their  six  or  seven  Italian  guides,  refreshing  themselves  with 
a  lunch  after  the  fatigue  of  the  ascent.  There  were  English, 
Germans,  French,  Russians,  and  Italians,  each  speaking  their 
own  language,  and  the  largest  party,  oddly  enough,  was  from  the 
United  States.  As  I  was  myself  travelling  with  foreigners,  and 
found  my  countrymen  on  Vesuvius  unexpectedly,  the  mixture  of 
nations  appeared  still  more  extraordinary.  The  combined  heat 
of  the  sun  and  the  volcano  beneath  us,  had  compelled  the 
Italians  to  throw  off  half  their  dress,  and  they  sat,  or  stood 
leaning  on  their  long  pikes,  with  their  brown  faces  and  dark  eyes 
glowing  with  heat,  as  fine  models  of  ruffians  as  ever  startled  a 
traveller  in  this  laud  of  I..:. Jits.  Eight  or  ten  of  them  were 
grouped  around  u  crack  in  the  crater,  roasting  apples  and 
toasting  bread.  There  were  several  of  these  cracks  winding 
about  in  different  directions,  of  which  I  could  barely  endure  the 
heat,  holding  my  hand  at  the  top.  A  stick  thrust  in  a  foot  or 
more,  was  burnt  black  in  a  moment. 

With  another  bottle  or  two  of  "  lagrima  Christ!"  and  a 
roasted  apple,  our  courage  was  renewed,  and  we  picked  our  way 
across  the  old  crater,  sometimes  lost  in  the  smoke  which  steamed 
up  through  the  cracks,  and  here  and  there  treading  on  beautiful 
beds  of  crystals  of  sulphur.  The  ascent  of  the  new  cone  was 
shorter,  but  very  difficult.  The  ashes  were  so  new  and  light, 
that  it  was  like  a  steep  sand-bank,  giving  discouragingly  at  the 
least  pressure,  and  sinking  till  the  next  step  was  taken.  The 
steams  of  sulphur  as  we  approached  the  summit,  were  all  but 
intolerable.  The  ladies  coughed,  the  guides  sneezed  and  called 
on  the  Madonna,  and  I  never  was  more  relieved  than  in  catching 
the  first  clear  draught  of  wind  on  the  top  of  the  mountain. 

Here  we  all  stood  at  last — crowded  together  on  the  narrow 


38  SUMMER   CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


edge  of  a  crater  formed  within  the  year,  and  liable  every  moment 
to  be  overwhelmed  with  burning  lava.  There  was  scarce  room 
to  stand,  and  the  hot  ashes  burnt  our  feet  as  they  sunk  into  it. 
The  females  of  each  party  sunk  to  the  ground,  and  the  common 
danger  and  toil  breaking  down  the  usual  stiff  barrier  of  silence 
between  strangers,  the  conversation  became  general,  and  the 
hour  on  the  crater's  edge  passed  very  agreeably. 

A  strong  lad  would  just  about  throw  a  stone  from  one  side  to 
the  other  of  the  new  crater.  It  was  about  forty  feet  deep, 
perhaps  more,  and  one  crust  of  sulphur  lined  the  whole.  It  was 
half  the  time  obscured  in  smoke,  which  poured  in  volumes  from 
the  broad  cracks  with  which  it  was  divided  in  every  direction, 
and  occasionally  an  eddy  of  wind  was  caught  in  the  vast  bowl, 
and  for  a  minute  its  bright  yellow  surface  was  perfectly  clear. 
There  had  not  been  an  eruption  for  four  or  five  months,  and  the 
abyss  which  is  for  years  together  a  pit  of  fire  and  boiling  lava, 
has  had  time  to  harden  over,  and  were  it  not  for  the  ^smoking 
seams,  one  would  scarce  suspect  the  existence  of  the  tremendous 
volcano  slumbering  beneath. 

After  we  had  been  on  the  summit  a  few  minutes,  an  English 
clergyman  of  my  acquaintance  to  our  surprise  emerged  from  the 
smoke.  He  had  been  to  the  bottom  for  specimens  of  sulphur 
for  his  cabinet.  Contrary  to  the  advice  of  the  guide,  I  profited 
by  his  experience,  and  disappearing  in  the  flying  clouds,  reached 
the  lowest  depths  of  the  crater  with  some  difficulties  of  foothold 
and  breath.  The  cracks,  which  I  crossed  twice,  were  so  brittle 
as  to  break  like  the  upper  ice  of  a  twice  frozen  pond  beneath  my 
feet,  and  the  stench  of  the  exhaling  gases  was  nauseating 
beyond  all  the  sulphuretted  hydrogen  I  have  ever  known.  The 
sensation  was  painfully  suffocating  from  the  moment  I  entered 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  39 


the  crater.  I  Ibroke  off  as  many  bits  of  the  bright  golden 
crystals  from  the  crust  as  my  confusion  and  failing  strength 
would  allow,  and  then  remounted,  feeling  my  way  up  through 
the  smoke  to  the  summit. 

I  can  compare  standing  on  the  top  of  Vesuvius  and  looking 
down  upon  the  bay  and  city  of  Naples,  to  nothing  but  mounting 
a  peak  in  the  infernal  regions  overlooking  paradise.  The  larger 
crater  encircles  you  entirely  fur  a  mile,  cutting  off  the  view  of 
the  sides  of  the  mountain,  and  from  the  elevation  of  the  new 
cone,  you  look  over  the  rising  edge  of  this  black  field  of  smoke 
and  cinders,  and  drop  the  eye  at  once  upon  Naples,  lying  asleep 
in  the  sun,  with  its  lazy  sails  upon  the  water,  and  the  green  hills 
enclosing  it  clad  in  the  indescribable  beauty  of  an  Italian 
atmosphere.  Beyond  all  comparison,  by  the  testimony  of  every 
writer  and  traveller,  the  most  beautiful  scene  in  the  world,  the 
loveliest  water,  and  the  brightest  land,  lay  spread  out  before  us. 
With  the  stench  of  hot  sulphur  in  our  nostrils,  ankle  deep  in 
black  ashes,  and  a  waste  of  smouldering  cinders  in  every 
direction  around  us,  the  enjoyment  of  the  view'  certainly  did  not 
want  for  the  heightening  of  contrast. 

We  made  our  descent  by  jumps  through  the  sliding  ashes, 
frequently  tumbling  over  each  other,  and  retracing  in  five 
minutes  the  toil  of  an  hour.  Our  donkeys  stood  tethered 
together  on  the  herbless  field  of  cinders,  and  we  were  soon  in 
the  clumsy  saddles,  and  with  a  call  at  the  hermitage,  and  a 
parting  draught  of  wine  with  the  friar,  we  reached  our  carriages 
at  the  little  village  of  Resina  in  safety.  The  feet  of  the  whole 
troop  were  in  a  wretched  condition.  The  ladies  had  worn  shoes, 
or  slight  boots,  which  were  cut  to  pieces  of  course,  and  one  very 
fine-looking  girl,  the  daughter  of  an  elderly  French  gentleman, 


40  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

had,  with  the  usual  improvidence  of  her  nation,  started  in  satin 
slippers.  She  was  probably  lamed  for  a  month,  as  she  insisted 
on  persevering,  and  wrapped  her  feet  in  handkerchiefs  to  return. 
We  rode  along  the  curve  of  the  bay,  by  one  of  these  matchless 
sunsets  of  Italy,  and  arrived  at  Naples  at  dark. 


I  have  had  the  pleasure  lately  of  making  the  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  Mathias,  the  distinguished  author  of  the  "  Pursuits  of 
Literature,"  and  the  translator  of  Spenser  and  other  English 
poets  into  Italian.  About  twenty  years  ago,  this  well-known 
scholar  came  to  Italy  on  a  desperate  experiment  of  health. 
Finding  himself  better,  almost  against  hope,  he  has  remained 
from  year  to  year  in  Naples,  in  love  with  the  climate  and  the 
language,  until,  at  this  day,  he  belongs  less  to  the  English  than 
the  Italian  literature,  having  written  various  original  poems  in 
Italian,  and  translated  into  Italian  verse,  to  the  wonder  and 
admiration  of  the  scholars  of  the  country.  I  found  him  this 
morning  at  his  lodgings,  in  an  old  palace  on  the  Pizzofalcone, 
buried  in  books  as  usual,  and  good-humored  enough  to  give  an 
hour  to  a  young  man,  who  had  no  claim  on  him  beyond  the 
ordinary  interest  in  a  distinguished  scholar.  He  talked  a  great 
deal  of  America  naturally,  and  expressed  a  very  strong  friendship 
for  Mr.  Everett,  whom  he  had  met  on  his  travels,  requesting  me 
at  the  same  time  to  take  to  him  a  set  of  his  works  as  a  remem 
brance.  Mr.  Mathias  is  a  small  man,  of  perhaps  sixty  years, 
perfectly  bald,  and  a  little  inclined  to  corpulency.  His  head  is 
ample,  and  would  make  a  fine  picture  of  a  scholar.  His  voice  is 
hurried  and  modest,  and  from  long  residence  in  Italy,  his  English 


ON   BOARD   AN   AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  41 


is  full  of  Italian  idioms.  He  spoke  with  rapture  of  Da  Polite, 
calling  me  back  as  I  shut  the  door,  to  ask  for  him.  It  seemed  to 
give  him  uncommon  pleasure  that  we  appreciated  and  valued  him 
in  America. 

I  have  looked  over,  this  evening,  a  small  volume,  which  he 
was  kind  enough  to  give  me.  It  is  entitled  "  Lyric  Poetry,  by 
T.  I.  Mathias,  a  new  edition,  printed  privately."  It  is  dated 
1832,  and  the  poems  were  probably  all  written  within  the  last 
two  years.  The  shortest  extract  I  can  make  is  a  "  Sonnet  to 
the  Memory  of  Gray,"  which  strikes  me  as  very  beautiful. 

"  Lord  of  the  various  lyre  !  devout  we  turn 
Our  pilgrim  steps  to  thy  supreme  abode, 
And  tread  with  awe  the  solitary  road 
To  grace  with  votive  wreaths  thy  hallowed  urn. 
Yet,  as  we  wander  through  this  dark  sojourn, 
No  more  the  strains  we  hear,  that  all  abroad 
Thy  fancy  waited,  as  the  inspiring  God 
Prompted  '  the  thoughts  that  breathe,  the  words  that  burn.' 

*'  But  hark  !  a  voice  in  solemn  accents  clear 
Bursts  from  heaven's  vault  that  glows  with  temperate  fire; 
Cease,  mortal,  cease  to  drop  the  fruitless  tear 
Mute  though  the  raptures  of  his  full-strung  lyre, 
E'en  his  own  warblings,  lessened  on  his  ear, 
Lost  in  seraphic  harmony  expire." 

I  have  met  also,  at  a  dinner  party  lately,  the  celebrated 
antiquary,  Sir  William  Gell.  He  too  lives  abroad.  His  work 
on  Pompeii  has  become  authority,  and  displays  very  great 
learning.  He  is  a  tall,  large-featured  man,  and  very  commanding 
in  his  appearance,  though  lamed  terribly  with  the  gout. 


42  SUMMER   CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


A  friend,  whom  I  met  at  the  same  house,  took  me  to  see  the 
archbishop  of  Tarento  yesterday.  This  venerable  man,  it  is  well 
known,  lost  his  gown  for  his  participation  in  the  cause  of  the  Car 
bonari  (the  revolutionary  conspirators  of  Italy.)  He  has  always 
played  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  politics  of  his  time,  and  now, 
at  the  age  of  ninety,  unlike  the  usual  fate  of  meddlers  in 
troubled  waters,  he  is  a  healthy,  happy,  venerated  old  man-, 
surrounded  in  his  palace  with  all  that  luxury  can  give  him.  The 
lady  who  presented  me,  took  the  privilege  of  intimate  friendship 
to  call  at  an  unusual  hour,  and  we  found  the  old  churchman  m 
his  slippers,  over  his  breakfast,  with  two  immense  tortoise-shell 
cats,  upon  stools,  watching  his  hand  far  bits  of  bread,  and 
purring  most  affectionately.  He  looks  like  one  of  Titian's 
pictures.  His  face  is  a  wreck  of  commanding  features,  and  his 
eye  seems  less  to  have  lost  its  fire,  than  to  slumber  in  its  deep 
socket.  His  hair  is  snowy  white — his  forehead  of  prodigious 
breadth  and  height — and  his  skin  has  that  calm,  settled,  and  yet 
healthy  paleness,  which  carries  with  it  the  history  of  a  whole  life 
of  temperance  and  thought. 

The  old  man  rose  from  his  chair  with  a  smile,  and  came  for 
ward  with  a  stoop  and  a  feeble  step,  and  took  my  two  hands,  as 
my  friend  mentioned  my  name,  and  looked  me  in  the  face  very 
earnestly.  "  Your  country,"  said  he,  in  Italian,  "  has  sprung 
into  existence  like  Minerva,  full  grown  and  armed.  We  look  for 
the  result. 5>  He  went  on  with  some  comments  upon  the  dangers 
of  republics,  and  then  sent  me  to  look  at  a  portrait  of  Queen 
Giovanna,  of  Naples,  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  while  he  sat  down  to 
talk  with  the  lady  who  brought  me.  His  secretary  accompanied 
me  as  a  cicerone.  Five  or  six  rooms,  communicating  with  each 
other,  were  filled  with  choice  pictures,  every  one  a  gift  from  some 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  43 


distinguished  individual.  The  present  king  of  France  has  sent  him 
his  portrait ;  Queen  Adelaide  has  sent  a  splendid  set  of  Sevres 
china,  with  the  portraits  of  her  family  ;  the  queen  of  Belgium  had 
presented  him  with  her  miniature  and  that  of  Leopold ;  the  king 
and  queen  of  Naples  had  half-furnished  his  house  ;  and  so  the 
catalogue  went  on.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  continent  had 

O 

united  to  honor  the  old  man.  While  I  was  looking  at  a  curious 
mosaic  portrait  of  a  cat,  presented  to  him  on  the  death  of  the 
original,  by  some  prince  whose  name  I  have  forgotten,  he  camo 
to  us,  and  said  he  had  just  learned  that  my  pursuits  were  literary, 
and  would  present  me  with  his  own  last  work.  He  opened  the 
drawer  of  a  small  bureau  and  produced  a  manuscript  of  some  ten 
pages,  written  in  a  feeble  hand.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  an 
enumeration  from  memory  of  what  I  have  not  seen  for  many 
years,  the  classic  spots  about  our  beautiful  city  of  Naples,  and 
their  associations.  I  have  written  it  in  the  last  month  to  wile 
away  the  time,  and  call  up  again  the  pleasure  I  have  received 
many  times  in  my  life  in  visiting  them."  I  put  the  curious 
document  in  my  bosom  with  many  thanks,  and  we  kissed  the 
hand  of  the  good  old  priest  and  left  him.  We  found  his  car 
riage,  with  three  or  four  servants  in  handsome  livery,  waiting  for 
him  in  the  court  below.  We  had  intruded  a  little  on  the  hour 
for  his  morning  ride. 

I  found  his  account  of  the  environs  merely  a  simple  catalogu-.-, 
with  here  and  there  a  classic  quotation  from  a  Greek  or  Latin 
author,  referring  to  them.  I  keep  the  MS.  as  a  curious  memento 
of  one  of  the  na blest  relics  I  have  seen  of  an  age  gone  by. 


LETTER   IV, 

The  Fashionable  World  of  Naples  at  the  Eaccs— Brilliant  Show  of  Equipages— Tho  King 
and  his  Brother— Eank  and  Character  of  the  Jockeys— Description  of  the  Kace— sThe 
Public  Burial  Ground  at  Naples — Horrid  and  inhuman  Spectacles — The  Lazzaroni — Tho 
Museum  at  Naples — Ancient  Eelics  from  Pompeii — Forks  not  used  by  the  Ancients — 
The  Lamp  lit  at  the  time  of  our  Saviour— The  antique.  Chair  of  Sallust— Tho  Villa  of 
Cicero— The  Balbi  Family— Bacchus  on  the  Shoulders  of  a  Faun— Gallery  of  Dians, 
Cupids.  Joves,  Mercuries,  and  Apollos,  Statue  of  Aristides,  etc. 

I  HAVE  been  all  day  at  "the  races."  The  king  of  Naples, 
who  has  a  great  admiration  for  everything  English,  has  aban 
doned  the  Italian  custom  of  running  horses  without  riders  through 
the  crowded  street,  and  has  laid  out  a  magnificent  course  on  the 
summit  of  a  broad  hill  overlooking  the  city  on  the  east.  Here 
he  astonishes  his  subjects  with  ridden  races,  and  it  was  to  see  one 
of  the  best  of  the  season,  that  the  whole  fashionable  world  of 
Naples  poured  out  to  the  campo  this  morning.  The  show  of 
equipages  was  very  brilliant,  the  dashing  liveries  of  the  various 
ambassadors,  and  the  court  and  nobles  of  the  kingdom,  showing 
on  the  bright  green-sward  to  great  effect.  1  never  saw  a  more 
even  piece  of  turf,  and  it  was  fresh  in  the  just-born  vegetation  of 
spring.  The  carriages  were  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  nearly  half 
round  the  course,  and  for  an  hour  or  two  before  the  races,  the 
king  and  his  brother,  Prince  Carlo,  rode  up  and  down  between 
with  the  royal  suite,  splendidly  mounted,  the  monarch  himself 


SUMMER   CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN  45 


upon  a  fiery  gray  blood-horse,  of  uncommon  power  and  beauty. 
The  director  was  an  Aragonese  nobleman,  cousin  to  the  king, 
and  as  perfect  a  specimen  of  the  Spanish  cavalier  as  ever  figured 
in  the  pages  of  romance.  He  was  mounted  on  a  Turkish  horse, 
snow-white,  and  the  finest  animal  I  ever  saw  ;  and  he  carried  all 
eyes  with  him,  as  he  dashed  up  and  down,  like  a  meteor.  I  like 
to  see  a  fine  specimen  of  a  man,  as  I  do  a  fine  picture,  or  an  ex 
cellent  horse,  and  I  think  I  never  saw  a  prettier  spectacle  of  its 
kind,  than  this  wild  steed  from  the  Balkan  and  his  handsome 
rider. 

The  king  is  tall,  very  fat,  but  very  erect,  of  a  light  complexion, 
and  a  good  horseman,  riding  always  in  the  English  style,  trotting 
and  rising  in  his  stirrup.  (He  is  about  twenty-three,  and  so  sur 
prisingly  like  a  friend  of  mine  in  Albany,  that  the  people  would 
raise  their  hats  to  them  indiscriminately,  I  am  sure.)  Prince 
Charles  is  smaller  and  less  kingly  in  his  appearance,  dresses  care 
lessly  arid  ill,  and  is  surrounded  always  in  public  with  half  a 
dozen  young  Englishmen.  lie  is  said  to  have  been  refused  lately 
by  the  niece  of  the  wealthiest  English  nobleman  in  Italy,  a  very 
beautiful  girl  of  eighteen,  who  was  on  the  ground  to-day  in  a 
chariot  and  four. 

The  horses  were  led  up  and  down — a  delicate,  fine-limbed  sorrel 
mare,  and  a  dark  chestnut  horse,  compact  and  wiry — both  Eng 
lish.  The  bets  were  arranged,  the  riders  weighed,  and,  at  the 
beat  of  a  bell,  off  they  went  like  arrows.  Oh  what  a  beautiful 
sight!  The  course  was  about  a  mile  round,  and  marked  with  red 
flags  at  short  distances  ;  and  as  the  two  flying  creatures  described 
the  bright  green  circle,  spread  out  like  greyhounds,  and  running 
with  an  ease  and  grace  that  seemed  entirely  without  effort,  the 
king  dashed  across  the  field  followed  by  the  whole  court ;  the 


46  SUMMER   CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


Turkish  steed  of  Don  Giovanni  restrained  with  difficulty  'in  the 
rear,  and  leaping  high  in  the  air  at  every  bound,  his  nostrils  ex 
panded,  and  his  head  thrown  up  with  the  peculiar  action  of  his 
race,  while  his  snow-white  mane  and  tail  flew  with  every  hair  free 
to  the  wind.  I  had,  myself,  a  small  bet  upon  the  sorrel.  It  was 
nothing — a  pair  of  gloves  with  a  lady — but  as  the  horses  came 
round,  the  sorrel  a  whip's  length  ahead,  and  both  shot  by  like 
the  wind,  scarce  touching  the  earth  apparently,  and  so  even  in 
their  speed  that  the  rider  in  blue  might  have  kept  his  hand  on  the 
other's  back,  the  excitement  became  breathless.  Away  they 
went  again,  past  the  starting  post,  pattering,  pattering  on  with 
their  slender  hoofs,  the  sorrel  still  keeping  her  ground,  and  a 
thousand  bright  lips  wishing  the  graceful  creature  success.  Half 
way  round  the  blue  jacket  began  to  whip.  The  sorrel  still  held 
her  way,  and  I  felt  my  gloves  to  be  beyond  peril.  The  royal 
cortege  within  the  ring  spurred  across  at  the  top  of  their  speed 
to  the  starting  post.  The  horses  came  on — their  nostrils  open 
and  panting,  bounding  upon  the  way  with  the  same  measured 
leaps  a  little  longer  and  more  eager  than  before  ;  the  rider  of  the 
sorrel  leaning  over  the  neck  of  his  horse  with  a  loose  rein,  and 
his  whip  hanging  untouched  from  his  wrist.  Twenty  leaps  more  ! 
With  every  one  the  rider  of  the  chestnut  gave  the  fine  animal  a 
blow.  The  sorrel  sprang  desperately  on,  every  nerve  strained  to 
the  jump,  but  at  the  instant  that  they  passed  the  carriage  in 
which  I  stood,  the  chestnut  was  developing  his  wiry  frame  in 
tremendous  leaps,  and  had  already  gained  on  his  opponent  the 
length  of  his  head.  They  were  lost  in  the  crowd  that  broke 
instantly  into  the  course  behind  them,  and  in  a  moment  after  a 
small  red  flag  was  waved  from  the  stand.  My  favorite  had  lost ! 
The  next  race  was  ridden  by  a  young  Scotch  nobleman,  and 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  47 


the  son  of  the  former  French  ambassador,  upon  the  horses  with 
which  they  came  to  the  ground.     It  was  a  match  made  up  on  the 
spot.     The  Frenchman  was  so  palpably  better  mounted,  that 
there  was  a  general  laugh  when  the  ground  was  cleared  and  the 
two   gentlemen  spurred  up   and  down  to  show  themselves  as 
antagonists.     The  Parisian  himself  stuffed  his  white  handkerchief 
in  his  bosom,  and  jammed  down  his  hat  upon  his  head  with  a 
confident  laugh,  and   among  the  ladies  there  was  scarce  a  bet 
upon  the  grave  Scotchman,  who  borrowed  a  stout  whip,  and  rode 
his  bony  animal  between  the  lines  with  a  hard  rein  and  his  feet 
set  firmly  in  the  stirrups.     The  Frenchman  generously  gave  him 
every  advantage,  beginning  with  the  inside  of  the  ring.     The  bell 
struck,  and  the  Scotchman  drove  his  spurs  into  his  horse's  flanks 
and  started  away,  laying  on  with  his  whip  most  industriously. 
His  opponent  followed,  riding  very  gracefully,  but   apparently 
quite   sure  that  he   could  overtake   him   at  any   moment,    and 
content  for  the  first  round  with  merely  showing  himself  off  to  the 
best   advantage.     Round    came    Sawney,    twenty   leaps    ahead, 
whipping  unmercifully  still ;  the  blood  of  his  hired  hack  com 
pletely  up,  and  himself  as  red  in  the  face  as  an  aldermen,  and 
with  his  eye  fixed  only  on  the  road.     The  long-tailed  bay  of  the 
Frenchman  came  after,  in  handsome  style,  his  rider  sitting  com 
placently  upright,  and  gathering  up  his  reins  for  the  first  time 
to  put  his  horse  to  his  speed.     The  Scotchman  flogged  on.     The 
Frenchman  had  disdained  to  take  a  whip,  but  he  drove  his  heels 
hard  into  his  horse's  sides  soon  after  leaving  the  post,  and  leaned 
forward  quite  in  earnest.     The  horses  did  remarkably  well,  both 
showing  much  more  bottom  than  was  expected.     On  they  came, 
the  latter  gaining  a  little  and  working  very  hard.     Sawney  had 
lost  his  hat,  and  his  red  hair  streamed  back  from  his  redder  face  ; 


48          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 

but  flogging  and  spurring,  with  his  teeth  shut  and  his  eyes 
steadily  fixed  on  the  road,  he  kept  the  most  of  his  ground  and 
rode  away.  They  passed  me  a  horse's  length  apart,  and  the 
Scotchman's  whip  flying  to  the  last,  disappeared  beyond  me. 
He  won  the  race  by  a  couple  of  good  leaps  at  least.  The  king 
was  very  much  amused,  and  rode  off  laughing  heartily,  and  the 
discomfitted  Frenchman  came  back  to  his  party  with  a  very  ill- 
concealed  dissatisfaction. 

A  very  amusing  race  followed  between  two  midshipmen  from 
an  English  corvette  lying  in  the  bay,  and  then  the  long  lines  of 
splendid  equipages  wheeled  into  train,  and  dashed  off  the  ground. 
The  road,  after  leaving  the  campo,  runs  along  the  edge  of  the 
range  of  hills,  enclosing  the  city,  and  just  below,  within  a  high 
white  wall,  lies  the  public  burial-place  of  Naples.  I  had  read  so 
many  harrowing  descriptions  of  this  spot,  that  my  curiosity  rose 
as  we  drove  along  in  sight  of  it,  and  requesting  my  friends  to  set 
me  down,  I  joined  an  American  of  my  acquaintance,  and  we 
started  to  visit  it  together. 

An  old  man  opened  the  iron  door,  and  we  entered  a  clean, 
spacious,  and  well-paved  area,  with  long  rows  of  iron  rings  in 
the  heavy  slabs  of  the  pavement.  Without  asking  a  question, 
the  old  man  walked  across  to  the  farther  corner,  where  stood  a 
moveable  lever,  and  fastening  the  chain  into  the  fixture,  raised 
the  massive  stone  cover  of  a  pit.  He  requested  us  to  stand  back 
for  a  few  minutes  to  give  the  effluvia  time  to  escape,  and  then, 
sheltering  our  eyes  with  our  hats,  we  looked  in.  You  have  read, 
of  course,  that  there  are  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  pits  in  this 
place,  one  of  which  is  opened  every  day  for  the  dead  of  the  city. 
They  are  thrown  in  without  shroud  or  coffin,  and  the  pit  is 
sealed  up  at  night  for  a  year.  They  are  thirty  or  forty  feet 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  49 


deep,  and  each  would  contain  perhaps  two  hundred  bodies. 
Lime  is  thrown  upon  the  daily  heap,  and  it  soon  melts  into  a 
mass  of  garbage,  and  by  the  end  of  the  year  the  bottom  of  the 
pit  is  c'overed  with  dry  white  bones. 

It  was  some  time  before  we  could  distinguish  anything  in  the 
darkness  of  the  abyss.  Fixing  my  eyes  on  one  spot,  however, 
the  outlines  of  a  body  became  defined  gradually,  and  in  a  few 
minutes,  sheltering  my  eyes  completely  from  the  sun  above,  I 
could  see  all  the  horrors  of  the  scene  but  too  distinctly.  Eight 
corpses,  all  of  grown  persons,  lay  in  a  confused  heap  together, 
as  they  had  been  thrown  in  one  after  another  in  the  course  of  the 
day.  The  last  was  a  powerfully  made,  gray  old  man,  who  had 
fallen  flat  on  his  back,  with  his  right  hand  lying  across  and  half 
covering  the  face  of  a  woman.  By  his  full  limbs  and  chest,  and 
the  darker  color  of  his  legs  below  the  knee,  he  was  probably  one 
of  the  lazzaroni,  and  had  met  with  a  sudden  death.  His  right 
heel  lay  on  the  forehead  of  a  young  man,  emaciated  to  the 
last  degree,  his  chest  thrown  up  as  he  lay,  and  his  ribs  showing 
like  a  skeleton  covered  with  skin.  The  close  black  curls  of  the 
latter,  as  his  head  rested  on  another  body,  were  in  such  strong 
relief  that  I  could  have  counted  them.  Off  to  the  right,  quite 
distinct  from  the  heap,  lay,  in  a  beautiful  attitude,  a  girl,  as  well 
as  I  could  judge,  of  not  more  than  nineteen  or  twenty.  She  had 
fallen  on  the  pile  and  rolled  or  slid  away.  Her  hair  was  very 
long,  and  covered  her  left  shoulder  and  bosom  ;  her  arm  -was 
across  her  body,  and  if  her  mother  had  laid  her  down  to  sleep, 
she  could  not  have  disposed  her  limbs  more  decently.  The  head 
had  fallen  a  little  away  to  the  right,  and  the  feet,  which  were 
small,  even  for  a  lady,  were  pressed  one  against  the  other,  as  if 
.she  were  about  turning  on  her  side.  The  sexton  said  that  a 


50          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

young  man  had  come  with  the  body,  and  was  very  ill  for  some 
time  after  it  was  thrown  in.  We  asked  him  if  respectable  people 
were  brought  here.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  many.  None  but  the 
rich  would  go  to  the  expense  of  a  separate  grave  for  their  rela 
tions.  People  were  often  brought  in  handsome  grave-clothes, 
but  they  were  always  stripped  before  they  were  left.  The 
shroud,  whenever  there  was  one,  was  the  perquisite  of  the  under 
takers."  And  thus  are  flung  into  this  noisome  pit,  like  beasts, 
the  greater  part  of  the  population  of  this  vast  city — the  young 
and  the  old,  the  vicious  and  the  virtuous  together,  without 
the  decency  even,  of  a  rag  to  keep  up  the  distinctions  of  life  ! 
Can  human  beings  thus  be  thrown  away  ? — men  like  ourselves — 
women,  children,  like  our  sisters  and  brothers  ?  I  never  was  so 
humiliated  in  my  life  as  by  this  horrid  spectacle.  I  did  not 
think  a  man — a  felon  even,  or  a  leper — what  you  will  that  is 
guilty  or  debased — I  did  not  think  anything  that  had  been 
human  could  be  so  recklessly  abandoned.  Pah  !  It  makes  one 
sick  at  heart  !  God  grant  I  may  never  die  at  Naples  ! 

While  we  were  recovering  from  our  disgust,  the  old  man 
lifted  the  stone  from  the  pit  destined  to  receive  the  dead  on  the 
following  day.  We  looked  in.  The  bottom  was  strewn  with 
bones,  already  fleshless  and  dry.  He  wished  us  to  see  the  dead 
of  several  previous  days,  but  my  stomach  was  already  tried  to  its 
utmost.  We  paid  our  gratuity,  and  hurried  away.  A  few  steps 
from,  the  gate,  we  met  a  man  bearing  a  coflin  on  his  head.  See 
ing  that  we  came  from  the  cemetery,  he  asked  us  if  we  wished  to 
look  into  it.  He  set  it  down,  and  the  lid  opening  with  a  hinge, 
we  were  horror-struck  with  the  sight  of  seven  dead  infants  ! 
The  youngest  was  at  least  three  months  old,  the  eldest  perhaps 
a  year  ;  and  they  lay  heaped  together  like  so  many  puppies,  one 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  51 

or  two  of  them  spotted  with  disease,  and  all  wasted  to  baby-skel 
etons.  While  we  were  looking  at  them,  six  or  seven  noisy 
children  ran  out  from  a  small  house  at  the  road-side  and 
surrounded  the  coffin.  One  was  a  fine  girl  of  twelve  years  of 
age,  and  instead  of  being  at  all  shocked  at  the  sight,  she  lifted 
the  whitest  of  the  dead  things,  and  looked  at  its  face  very  ear 
nestly,  loading  it  with  all  the  tenderc-st  diminutives  of  the 
language.  The  others  were  busy  in  pointing  to  those  they 
thought  had  been  prettiest,  and  none  of  them  betrayed  fear  or 
disgust.  In  answer  to  a  question  of  my  friend  about  the  marks 
of  disease,  the  man  rudely  pulled  out  one  by  the  foot  that  lay 
below  the  rest,  and  holding  it  up  to  show  the  marks  upon  it, 
tossed  it  again  carelessly  into  th<;  coffin.  He  had  brought  them 
from  the  hospital  for  infants,  and  they  had  died  that  morning. 
The  coffin  was  worn  with  use.  Ho  shut  down  the  lid,  and  lifting 
it  again  upon  his  head,  went  on  to  the  d-rm^ry,  tn  en.pfy  it  like 
so  much  offal  up^n  the  I.u-ap  \\>>  Lad  ;$,vn  I 

1  have  been  struck  lept-utedJy  wi;h  the  liitlo  value  attached  to 
human  life  in  Italy.  1  have  seen  several  of  iliose  housless  hizza- 
roni  literally  dying  in  the  streets,  ami  no  one  curious  enough  to 
look  at  them.  The  most  dreadful  sufferings,  the  most  despairing 
cries,  in  the  open  squares,  are  passed  as  unnoticed  as  the  howling 
of  a  dog.  The  day  before  yesterday,  a  woman  fell  in  the  Toledo, 
in  a  fit,  frothing  at  the  mouth,  and  livid  with  pain  ;  and  though 
the  street  was  so  crowded  that  one  could  make  his  way  with  diffi 
culty,  three  or  four  ragged  children  were  the  only  persons  even 
looking  at  her. 


52          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

I  have  devoted  a  week  to  the  museum  at  Naples.  It  is  a 
world !  Anything  like  a  full  description  of  it  would  tire  even 
an  antiquary.  It  is  one  of  those  things  (and  there  are  many  in 
Europe)  that  fortunately  compel  travel.  You  must  come  abroad 
to  get  an  idea  of  it. 

The  first  day  I  buried  myself  among  the  curiosities  found  at 
Pompeii.  After  walking  through  the  chambers  and  streets 
where  they  were  found,  I  came  to  them  naturally  with  an  intense 
interest.  I  had  visited  a  disentombed  city,  buried  for  seventeen 
centuries — had  trodden  in  their  wheel-tracks — had  wandered 
through  their  dining-rooms,  their  chambers,  their  baths,  their 
theatres,  their  market-places.  And  here  were  gathered  in  one 
place,  their  pictures,  their  statues,  their  cooking-utensils,  their 
ornaments,  tin  very  food  as  it  was  found  on  their  tables  !  I  am 
puzzled,  in  looking  over  my  note-book,  to  know  what  to  mention. 
Ti.e  c;it.-'.l<>;.vu'!  fills  ;\  printed  volume. 

A  i'u  i«-us  corner  in  one  of  the  cases  was  that  containing  the 
artick's  found  011  the  toilet  of  the  wealthiest  Pompeian's  wife. 
Here  were  pots  of  rouge,  ivory  pins,  necklaces,  'ear-rings, 
brac'.'l.'ts,  small  silver  mirrors,  combs,  ear-pickers,  etc.,  etc. 
In  the  next  case  were  two  loavvs  of  bread,  found  in  a  baker's 
oven,  and  stamped  with  his  name.  Two  large  cases  of  precious 
gems,  cameos  and  intaglios  of  all  descriptions,  stand  in  the  centra 
of  this  room  (among  which,  by  the  wny,  the  most  exquisitely 
done  are  two  which  one  cannot  look  at  without  a  blush). 
Another  case  is  filled  with  eatables,  found  upon  the  tables — eggs, 
fish-bones,  honey-comb,  grain,  fruits,  etc.  In  the  repository  for 
ancient  glass  are  several  cinerary  urns,  in  which  the  ashes  of  the 
dead  are  perfectly  preserved  ;  and  numerous  small  glass  lachry- 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  53 


matories,  in  which  the  tears  of  the  survivors  were  deposited  in 
the  tombs. 

The  brazen  furniture  of  Pompeii,  the  lamps  particularly,  are 
of  the  most  curious  and  beautiful  models.  Trees,  to  which  the 
lamps  were  suspended  like  fruit,  vines,  statues  holding  them  in 
their  hands,  and  numerous  other  contrivances,  were  among 
them,  exceeding  far  in  beauty  any  similar  furniture  of  our  time. 
It  appears  that  the  ancients  did  not  know  the  use  of  the/or^, 
as  every  other  article  of  table  service  except  this  has  been  found 
here. 

To  conceive  the  interest  attached  to  the  thousand  things  in 
this  museum,  one  must  imagine  a  modern  city,  Boston  for 
example,  completely  buried  by  an  unexpected  and  terrific  con 
vulsion  of  nature.  Its  inhabitants  mostly  escape,  but  from, 
various  causes  leave  their  city  entombed,  and  in  a  hundred  years 
ihe  grass  grows  over  it,  and  its  very  locality  is  forgotten.  Near 
two  thousand  years  elapse,  and  then  a  peasant,  digging  in  the 
field,  strikes  upon  some  of  its  ruins,  and  it  is  unearthed  just  as  it 
stands  at  this  moment,  with  all  its  utensils,  books,  pictures, 
houses,  and  streets,  in  untouched  preservation.  What  a  subject 
for  speculation  !  What  food  for  curiosity  !  What  a  living  and 
breathing  chapter  of  history  were  this  !  Far  more  interesting  is 
Pompeii.  For  the  age  in  which  it  flourished  and  the  characters 
who  trod  its  streets,  are  among  the  most  remarkable  in  history. 
This  brazen  lamp,  shown  to  me  to-day  as  a  curiosity,  was  lit 
every  evening  in  the  time  of  Christ.  The  handsome  chambers 
through  which  I  wandered  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  from  which 
were  brought  this  antique  chair,  were  the  home  of  Sallust,  and 
doubtless  had  been  honored  by  the  visits  of  Cicero  (whose  villa, 
half-excavated,  is  near  by,)  and  by  all  the  poets  and  scholars  and 


54          SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


statesmen  of  his  time.  One  might  speculate  endlessly  thus  ! 
And  it  is  that  which  makes  these  lands  of  forgotten  empires  so 
delightful  to  the  traveller.  His  mind  is  fed  by  the  very  air.  He 
needs  no  amusements,  no  company,  no  books  except  the  history 
of  the  place.  The  spot  is  peopled  wherever  he  may  stray,  and 
the  common  necessities  of  life  seem  to  pluck  him  from  a  faj- 
reaching  dream,  in  which  he  had  summoned  back  receding  ages, 
and  was  communing,  face  to  face,  with  philosophers  and  poets 
and  emperors,  like  a  magician  before  his  mirror.  Pompeii  and 
Herculaneum  seem  to  me  visions.  I  cannot  shake  myself  and 
wake  to  their  reality.  My  mind  refuses  to  go  back  so  far. 
Seventeen  hundred  years  ! 

I  followed  the  cicerone  on,  listening  to  his  astonishing  enumer 
ation,  and  looking  at  everything  as  he  pointed  to  it,  in  a  kind  of 
stupor.  One  has  but  a  certain  capacity.  We  may  be  over- 
astonished.  Still  he  went  on  in  the  same  every-day  tone,  talking 
as  indifferently  of  this  and  that  surprising  antiquity  as  a  pedlar 
of  his  two -penny  wares.  We  went  from  the  bronzes  to  the  hall 
of  the  papyri — thence  to  the  hall  of  the  frescoes,  and  beautiful 
they  were.  Their  very  number  makes  them  indescribable.  The 
next  morning  we  devoted  to  the  statuary — and  of  this,  if  I  knew 
wh^re  to  begin,  I  should  like  to  say  a  word  or  two. 

First  of  all  comes  the  Balbi  family — father,  mother,  sons  and 
daughters.  He  was  proconsul  of  Herculaneum,  and  by  the 
excellence  of  the  statues,  which  are  life  itself  for  nature,  he  and 
his  family  were  worth  the  artist's  best  effort.  He  is  a  fine  old 
Roman  himself,  and  his  wife  is  a  tall,  handsome  woman,  much 
better-looking  than  her  daughters.  The  two  Misses  Balbi  are 
modest-looking  girls,  and  that  is  all.  They  were  the  high-born 
damsels  of  Ferculaneum,  however  ;  and,  if  human  nature  has 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  55 

not  changed  in  seventeen  centuries,  they  did  not  want  admirers 
who  compared  them  to  the  Venuses  who  have  descended  with 
them  to  the  "  Museo  Borbonico."  The  eldest  son  is  on  horse 
back  in  armor.  It  is  one  of  the  finest  equestrian  statues  in  the 
world.  He  is  a  noble  youth,  of  grave  and  handsome  features, 
and  sits  the  superb  animal  with  the  freedom  of  an  Arab  and  the 
dignity  of  a  Roman.  It  is  a  beautiful  thing.  If  one  had  visited 
these  Balbis,  warm  and  living,  in  the  time  of  Augustus,  he 
could  scarcely  feel  more  acquainted  with  them  than  after  having 
seen  their  statues  as  they  stand  before  him  here. 

Come  a  little  farther  on  !  Bacchus  on  the  shoulders  of  a  faun 
— a  child  delighted  with  a  grown-up  playfellow.  I  have  giveu  the 
same  please  to  just  such  another  bright  "  picture  in  little"  of 
human  beauty.  It  moves  one's  heart  to  see  it. 

Pass  now  a  whole  gallery  of  Dians,  Cupids,  Joves,  Mercuries 
and  Apollos,  and  come  to  the  presence  of  Aristides—bim  whom 
the  Athenians  exiled  because  they  were  tired  of  hcaiing  him 
called  "  The  Just."  Canova  has  marked  three  spots  upon  (hj 
floor  where  the  spectator  should  place  himself  to  see  to  the  bot>t 
advantage  this  renowned  statue.  He  stands  wrapped  in  his  toga, 
with  his  head  a  little  inclined,  as  if  in  reflection,  and  in  his  face 
there  is  a  mixture  of  firmness  and  goodness  from  which  you  read 
his  character  as  clearly  as  if  it  were  written  across  his  forehead. 
It  was  found  at  Herculaneum,  and  is,  perhaps,  the  simplest  and 
most  expressive  statue  in  the  world. 


LETTER   V. 

r»stum — Temple  of  Neptune — Departure  from  Elba — Iscln'a— Buy  of  Naples — The 
ToK-ilo — The  Young  Queen — Conspiracy  against  the  King — Neapolitans  Visiting  the 
Friga'os — Leave-  the  Bay — Castellamare. 

SALVATOH  I'OSA  studied  the  scenery  of  La  Gava — the  country 
between  Pompeii  and  Salerno,  on  the  road  to  Pacstum.  It  is  a 
seiies  of  natively  abrupt  glens,  but  gemmed  with  cottages  and 
banging  gardens,  through  which  the  wildness  of  every  feature  is 
as  apparent  as  those  of  a  savage  through  his  trinkets.  I  was 
go'iti  f  to  Paestutn  with  an  agreeable  party,  and  we  came  out  upon 
the  bluffs  overhanging  Salerno  and  the  sea,  an  hour  before  sunset. 
We  darted  down  upon  the  little  city  lying  in  the  bend  of  the 
bay,  like  a  bird's  descent  upon  her  nest.  The  road  is  cut  through 
tiie  side  of  the  precipice,  and  runs  to  the  bottom  with  a  single 
MviM-p.  We  were  to  pass  the  night  here  and  go  to  Paestum  the 
next  morning,  see  the  ruins,  and  return  here  to  sleep  once  more 
b.-fore  returning  to  Naples. 

We  were  five  or  six  miles  from  Salerno  before  sunrise,  and 
entering  upon  the  dreary  wastes  of  Calabria.  The  people  we 
passed  on  the  road  were  dressed  in  skins  with  the  wool  outside, 
and  the  country  looked  abandoned  by  nature  itself,  scarce  a  flour 
ishing  tree  or  a  healthy  plant  within  the  range  of  the  sight  We 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN,  57 

turned  from  the  main  road  after  a  while,  crossed  a  ruinous 
bridge,  and  tracked  a  broad,  waste,  gloomy  plain,  till  my  eyes 
ached  with  its  barrenness.  In  an  hour  more,  three  stately 
temples  began  to  rise  in  the  distance,  increasing  in  grandeur  as 
we  approached.  A  cluster  of  ruin-ed  tombs  on  the  right — a 
grass-grown  and  broken  city  wall,  through  a  rent  of  which  passed 
the  road — and  we  stood  among  them,  in  the  desert,  amid  temples 
of  inimitable  beauty ! 

T'here  seemed  to  be  a  general  feeling  in  the  party  that  silence 
and  solitude  were  the  spirits  of  the  place.  We  separated  and 
rambled  about  alone.  The  grand  temple  of  Neptune  stands  in 
the  centre.  A  temple  in  the  midst  of  the  sea  could  scarce  seem 
ii] ore  strangely  placed.  I  stood  on  the  high  base  of  the  altar 
within  and  looked  out  between  the  columns  on  every  side.  The 
Mediterranean  slept  in  a  broad  sheet  of  silver  on  the  west,  and 
on  every  other  side  lay  the  bare,  houseless  desert,  stretching 
a\vay  to  the  naked  mountains  on  the  south  and  east,  with  a 
barrenness  that  made  the  heart  ache,  while  it  filled  the  imagination 
with  its  singleness  and  grandeur.  I  descended  to  look  at  the 
columns.  They  were  eaten  through  and  through  with  snails  and 
worms,  and  all  of  the  same  rich  yellow  so  admirably  represented 
in  the  cork  models.  But  their  size,  and  their  noble  proportion  as 
they  stand,  cannot  be  represented.  They  seem  the  conception 
and  the  woik  of  giant  minds  and  hands.  One's  soul  rises  among 
them. 

We  walked  round  the  ruins  for  hours.  A  little  toward  the  sea, 
lie  the  traces  of  an  amphitheatre,  filled  with  fragments  of  statu 
ary,  and  parts  of  immense  friezes  and  columns.  We  all  assem 
bled  at  last  in  the  great  temple,  and  sat  down  on  the  immense 
steps  toward  the  east,  in  the  shadow  of  the  pediment,  speculating 
3* 


58          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


on  the  wonderful  fabric  above  us,  till  we  were  summoned  to  start 
on  our  return.  To  think  that  these  very  temples  were  visited  as 
venerable  antiquities  in  the  time  of  Christ !  What  events  have 
these  worm-eaten  columns  outlived  !  What  moths  of  an  hour,  iu 
comparison,  are  we? 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  three  such  magnificent  structures, 
so  near  the  sea,  the  remains  of  a  great  city,  should  have  been 
lost  for  ages.  A  landscape-painter,  searching  for  the  picturesque, 
came  suddenly  upon  them  fifty  years  ago,  and  astonished  the 
world  with  his  discovery  !  It  adds  to  their  interest  now. 

We  turned  our  horses'  heads  towards  Naples.  What  an  extra 
ordinary  succession  of  objects  were  embraced  in  the  fifty  miles 
between  ! — Peestum,  Pompeii,  Vesuvius,  Herculaneum  ! — «nd, 
added  to  these,  the  thousand  classic  associations  of  the  lovely 
coast  along  Sorrento  !  The  value  of  life  deepens  incalculably 
with  the  privileges  of  travel. 


WRITTEN  ON  BOARD  THE  FRIGATE  UNITED  STATES. — We  sot 
sail  from  Elba  on  the  third  of  June.  The  inhabitants,  all  of 
whom,  I  presume,  had  been  on  board  of  the  ships,  were  standing 
along  the  walls  and  looking  from  the  embrasures  of  the  fortress 
to  see  us  off.  It  was  a  clear  summer's  morning,  without  much 
wind,  and  we  crept  slowly  off  from  the  point,  gazing  up  at  the 
windows  of  Napoloon's  house  as  we  passed  under,  and  laying  on 
our  course  for  the  shore  of  Italy.  We  soon  got  into  the  frcshi-r 
breeze  of  the  open  sea,  and  the  low  white  line  of  villages  on  the 
Tuscan  coast  appeared  more  distant,  till,  with  a  glass,  we  could 
see  the  people  at  the  windows  watching  our  progress.  Fishing 
boats  were  drawn  up  on  shore,  and  the  idle  sailors  were  leaning 


ON    BOARD   AN   AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  59 


in  the  half  shadow  which  they  afforded  ;  but  with  the  almost 
total  absence  of  trees,  and  the  glaring  white  of  the  walls,  we 
were  content  to  be  out  upon  the  cool  sea,  passing  town  after 
town  unvisited.  Island  after  island  was  approached  and  left 
during  the  day  ;  barren  rocks  with  only  a  lighthouse  to  redeem 
thnir  nakedness  ;  and  in  the  evening  at  sunset  we  were  in  sight 
ut  i.- chia,  iLc  toweriu :  i.-lo  in  tlio  l>nsom  of  the  bay  of  Naples. 
The  band  had  been  called  as  usual  at  seven,  and  were  playing  a 
delightful  waltz  upon  the  quarter  deck  ;  the  sea  was  even,  and 
just  crisped  by  the  breeze  from  the  Italian  shore  ;  the  sailors 
were  leaning  on  the  guns  listening  ;  the  officers  clustered  in 
their  various  places  ;  and  the  murmur  of  the  foam  before  the 
prow  was  just  audible  in  the  lighter  passages  of  the  music. 
Above  and  in  the  west  glowed  the  eternal  but  untiring  teints  of 
the  summer  sky  of  the  Mediterranean,  a  gradually  fading  gold 
from  the  edge  of  the  sea  to  the  zenith,  and  the  early  star  soon 
twinkled  through  it,  and  the  air  dampened  to  a  reviving  fresh 
ness.  I  do  not  know  that  a  mere  scene  like  this,  without  inci 
dent,  will  interest  a  reader,  but  it  was  so  delightful  to  myself, 
that  I  have  described  it  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  dwelling  on  it. 
The  desert  stillness  and  loneliness  of  the  sea,  the  silent  motion 
of  the  ship,  and  the  delightful  music  swelling  beyond  the 
bulwarks  and  dying  upon  the  wind,  were  Buch  singularly 
combined  circumstances  '  It  was  a  moving  paradise  in  the  waste 
of  the  ocean. 


Sail  was  shortened  last  night,  and  we  lay  to  under  the  shore  of 
eiiTa,  to  enter  the  bay  of  Naples  by  daylight..      As  the.morning 


60  SUMMER   CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


mist  lifted  a  little,  the  peculiar  shape  of  Vesuvius,  the  boldness 
of  the  island  of  Capri,  the  sweeping  curves  of  Baia  and  Portici, 
and  the  small  promontory  which  lifts  Naples  toward  the  sea,  rose 
like  the  features  of  a  familiar  friend  to  my  eye.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  have  seen  Naples  without  having  a  memory  steeped  in 
its  beauty.  A  fair  wind  set  us  straight  into  the  bay,  and  one  by 
one  the  towns  on  its  shore,  the  streaks  of  lava  on  the  sides  of  its 
volcano,  and,  soon  after,  the  houses  of  friends  on  the  street  of 
the  Chiaga,  became  distinguishable  to  the  eye.  There  had  been 
a  slight  eruption  since  I  was  here  ;  but  now,  as  before,  there  was 
scarce  a  puff  of  smoke  to  be  seen  rising  from  Vesuvius.  My 
little  specimen  of  sulphur  which  I  took  from  the  just  hardened 
•som  of  the  crater  now  destroyed,  lies  before  me  on  the  table  as 
I  write,  more  valued  than  ever,  since  its  bed  has  been  melted  and 
blown  into  the  air.  The  new  and  lighter-colored  streak  on  the 
right  of  the  mountain,  would  have  informed  me  of  itself  that  the 
lava  had  issued  since  I  was  here.  The  sound  of  bells  and  the 
hum  of  the  city  reached  our  ears,  and  running  in  between  the 
mole  and  the  castle,  the  anchor  was  dropped,  and  the  ship  sur 
rounded  with  boats  from  the  shore. 


The  heat  kept  us  on  board  till  the  evening,  and  with  several 
of  the  officers  I  landed  and  walked  up  the  Toledo  as  the  lazzaroni 
were  stirring  from  their  sleep  under  the  walls  of  the  houses. 
With  the  exception  of  the  absence  of  the  English,  who  have 
mostly  flitted  to  the  baths,  Naples  was  the  same  place  as  ever} 
busy,  dirty,  and  gay.  Her  thousand  beggars  were  still  "  dying 
of  hunger,"  and  telling  it  to  the  passenger  in  the  same  exhausted 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  6l 

tone  ;  her  gay  carriages  and  skeleton  hacks  were  still  flying  up  and 
down,  and  dashing  at  and  over  you  for  your  custom  ;  the  cows  and 
goats  were  driven  about  to  be  milked  in  the  street  5  the  lemonade 
sellers  stood  in  their  stalls  ;  the  money  changers  at  their  tables 
in  the  open  squares  ;  punciuello  squeaked  and  beat  his  mistress 
at  every  corner  ;  the  awnings  of  the  cafes  covered  hundreds  of 
smokers  and  loungers  ;  and  this  gay,  miserable,  homeless,  out-of- 
doors  people,  seemed  as  degraded  and  thoughtless,  and,  it  must 
be  owned,  as  insensibly  happy  as  before.  You  would  think,  to 
walk  through  the  Toledo  of  Naples,  that  two-thirds  of  its  crowd 
of  wretches,  and  all  its  horses  and  dogs,  were  at  their  last 
extremity,  and  yet  they  go  on,  and,  I  was  told  by  an  Englishman 
resident  here,  who  has  been  accustomed  to  meet  always  the  same 
faces,  seem  never  to  change  or  disappear,  suffering,  and  groaning, 
and  dragging  up  and  down,  shocking  the  eye  and  sickening  the 
heart  of  the  inexperienced  stranger  for  years  and  years. 

We  passed  the  prima  sera,  the  first  part  of  the  evening,  as  most, 
men  in  Italy  pass  it,  eating  ices  at  the  thronged  cafe,  and  at  nine 
we  went  to  the  splendid  theatre  of  San  Carlo  to  sec  "  La  Som- 
nambula."  The  king  and  queen  were  present,  with  the  dissolute 
old  queen-mother  and  her  gray-headed  lover.  I  was  instantly 
struck  with  the  alteration  in  the  appearance  of  the  young  queen. 
When  I  was  here  three  months  ago,  she  was  just  married,  and 
appeared  frequently  in  the  public  walks,  and  a  fresher  or  brighter 
face  I  never  had  seen.  She  was  acknowledged  the  most  beautiful 
woman  in  Naples,  and  had,  what  is  very  much  valued  in  this  land 
of  pale  brunettes,  a  clear  rosy  cheek,  and  lips  as  bright  as  a 
child's.  She  is  now  thin  and  white,  and  looks  to  me  like  a 
person  fading  with  a  rapid  consumption. 

Several  conspiracies  have  been  detected  within  a  month  or 


62  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


two,  the  last  of  which  was  very  nearly  successful.  The  day 
before  we  arrived,  two  officers  in  the  royal  army,  men  of  high 
rank,  had  shot  themselves,  each  putting  a  pistol  to  the  other's 
breast,  believing  discovery  inevitable.  One  died  instantly,  and  the 
other  lingers  to-day  without  any  hope  of  recovery.  The  king 
was  fired  at  on  parade  the  day  previous,  which  was  supposed  to 
have  been  the  first  step,  but  the  plot  had  been  checked  by  partial 
disclosure,  hence  the  tragedy  I  have  just  related. 

The  ships  have  been  thronged  with  visitors  during  the  two  or 
three  days  we  have  lain  at  Naples,  among  whom  have  been  the 
prime  minister  and  his  family.  Orders  arc  given  to  admit  every 
one  on  board  that  wishes  to  come,  and  the  decks,  morning  and 
evening,  present  the  most  motley  scene  imaginable.  Cameo  and 
lava  sellers  expose  their  wares  on  the  gun-carriages,  surrounded 
by  the  midshipmen — Jews  and  fruit-sellers  hail  the  sailors  through 
the  ports — boats  full  of  chickens  and  pigs,  all  in  loud  outcry,  are 
held  up  to  view  with  a  recommendation  in  broken  English — 
contadini  in  their  best  dresses  walk  up  and  down,  smiling  on  the 
officers,  and  wondering  at  the  cleanliness  of  the  decks,  and  the 
elegance  of  the  captain's  cabin — Punch  plays  his  tricks  under  the 
gun-deck  ports — bands  of  wandering  musicians  sing  and  hold  out 
their  hats,  as  they  row  around,  and  all  is  harmony  and  amusement. 
In  the  evening,  it  is  pleasanter  still,  for  the  band  is  playing,  and 
the  better  class  of  people  come  off  from  the  shore,  and  boats 
filled  with  these  pretty,  dark-eyed  Neapolitans,  row  round  and 
round  the  ship,  eying  the  officers  as  they  lean  over  the  bulwarks, 
and  ready  with  but  half  a  nod  to  make  acquaintance  and  come  up 
the  gangway.  I  have  had  a  private  pride  of  my  own  in  showing 
the  frigate  as  American  to  many  of  my  foreign  friends.  One's 
nationality  becomes  nervously  sensitive  abroad,  and  in  the  beauty 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  63 


and  order  of  the  ships,  the  manly  elegance  of  the  officers,  and  the 
general  air  of  superiority  and  decision  throughout,  I  have  found 
food  for  some  of  the  highest  feelings  of  gratification  of  which  I  am 
capable. 

We  weighed  anchor  yesterday  morning  (the  twentieth  of 
June),  and  stood  across  the  bay  for  Castellamare.  Running 
close  under  Vesuvius,  we  passed  Portici,  Torre  del  Greco,  and 
Pompeii,  and  rounded  to  in  the  little  harbor  of  this  fashionable 
watering-place  soon  after  noon.  Castellamare  is  about  fifteen 
miles  from  Naples,  and  in  the  summer  months  it  is  crowded  with 
those  of  the  fashionables  who  do  not  make  a  northern  tour.  The 
shore  rises  directly  from  the  sea  into  a  high  mountain,  on  the  side 
of  which  the  king  has  a  country-seat,  and  around  it  hang,  on 
terraces,  the  houses  of  the  English.  Strong  mineral  springs 
abound  on  the  slope. 

We  landed  directly,  and  mounting  the  donkies  waiting  on  the 
pier,  started  to  make  the  round  of  the  village  walks.  English 
maids  with  their  prettily  dressed  and  rosy  children,  and  English 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  mounted,  like  ourselves  on  donkeys,  met 
us  at  every  turn  as  we  wound  up  the  shady  and  zigzag  roads  to 
the  palace.  The  views  became  finer  as  we  ascended,  till  we  look 
down  into  Pompeii,  which  was  but  four  miles  off,  and  away 
toward  Naples,  following  the  white  road  with  the  eye  along  the 
shore  of  the  sea.  The  paths  were  in  fine  order,  and  as  beautiful 
as  green  trees,  and  shade,  and  living  fountains,  crossing  the  road 
continually,  could  make  them.  In  tbe  neighborhood  of  the  royal 
casino,  the  ground  was  planted  more  like  a  park,  and  the  walks 
were  terminated  with  artificial  fountains,  throwing  up  their  bright 
waters  amid  statuary  and  over  grottoes,  and  here  we  met  the 
idlers  of  the  place  of  all  nations,  enjoying  the  sunset.  I  met  an 


64          SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN. 


acquaintance  or  two,  and  felt  the  yearning  unwillingness  to  go 
away  which  I  have  felt  on  every  spot  almost  of  this  "  delicious 
land." 

We  set  sail  again  with  the  night-breeze,  and  at  this  moment 
are  passing  between  Ischia  and  Capri,  running  nearly  on  our 
course  for  Sicily.  We  shall  probably  be  at  Palermo  to-morrow. 
The  ship's  bell  beats  ten,  and  the  lights  are  ordered  out,  and 
under  this  imperative  government,  I  must  say  "  good  night !" 


LETTER   V.I, 

BdiC— Grotto  of  Pausilyppo — Tomb  of  Virgil — Pozzuoli — Euins  of  the  Temple  of  Jupiter 
Serapis — The  Lucrine  Lake — Lake  of  Avernus,  tlie  Tartarus  of  Virgil — Temple  of  Pros 
erpine— Grotto  of  the  Cumooan  Sybil— Nero's  villa— Cape  of  Misenum— Eoman  villas— 
Euins  of  the  Temple  of  Venus — Cento  Cainerelle-Tho  Stygian  Lake — The  Elysian 
Fields— Grotto  del  Cane— Villa  of  Lucullus. 

WE  made  the  excurson  to  Bam  on  one  of  those  premature 
days  of  March  co-union  to  Italy.  A  south  wind  and  a  warm  sun 
gave  it  the  foolisn;  of  June.  The  heat  was  even  oppressive  as 
we  drove  through  the  city,  and  the  long  echoing  grotto  of 
JPausilyppO)  always  dim  and  cool,  was  peculiarly  refreshing. 
Near  the  entrance  to  this  curious  passage  under  the  mountain, 
we  stopped  to  visit  the  tomb  of  Virgil.  A  ragged  boy  took  us 
up  a  steep  path  to  the  gate  of  a  vineyard,  and  winding  in  among 
the  just  budding  vines,  we  came  to  a  small  ravine,  in  the  mouth 
of  which,  right  over  the  deep  cut  of  the  grotto,  stands  the  half- 
ruined  mausoleum  which  hold  the  bones  of  the  poet.  An 
Englishman  stood  lean  in.-.'  niainst  the  entrance,  reading  from  a 
pocket  copy  of  the  ^Eneid.  He  seemed  ashamed  to  be  caught 
•with  his  classic,  and  put  the  book  in  his  pocket  as  I  came 
suddenly  upon  him,  and  walked  off  to  the  other  side  whistling  an 
air  from  the  Pirata,  which  is  playing  just  now  at  San  Carlo. 
We  went  in,  counted  the  niches  for  the  urns,  stood  a  few  minutes 


C6  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


to  indulge  in  what  recollections  we  could  summon,  and  then 
mounted  to  the  top  to  hunt  for  the  "  myrtle."  Even  its 
root  was  cut  an  inch  or  two  below  the  ground.  We  found 
violets  however,  and  they  answered  as  well.  The  pleasure  of 
visiting  such  places,  I  think,  is  not  found  on  the  spot.  The 
fatigue  of  the  walk,  the  noise  of  a  party,  the  difference  between 
reality  and  imagination,  and  worse  than  all,  the  caprice  of  mood 
— one  or  the  other  of  these  things  disturbs  and  defeats  for  me 
the  dearest  promises  of  anticipation.  It  is  the  recollection  that 
repays  us.  The  picture  recurs  to  the  fancy  till  it  becomes 
familiar  ;  and  as  the  disagreeable  circumstances  of  the  visit  fade 
from  the  memory,  the  imagination  warms  it  into  a  poetic  feeling, 
and  we  dwell  upon  it  with  the  delight  we  looked  for  in  vain  when 
present.  A  few  steps  up  the  ravine,  almost  buried  in  luxuriant 
grass,  stands  a  small  marble  tomb,  covering  the  remains  of  an 
English  girl.  She  died  at  Naples.  It  is  as  lovely  a  place  to  lie 
in  as  the  world  could  show.  Forward  a  little  toward  the  edee  of 

•  to 

the  hill  some  person  of  taste  has  constructed  a  little  arbor,  laced 
over  with  vines,  whence  the  city  and  bay  of  Naples  is  seen  to  the 
finest  advantage.  Paradise  that  it  is  ! 

It  is  odd  to  leave  a  city  by  a  road  piercing  the  base  of  a  broad 
mountain,  in  at  one  side  and  out  at  the  other,  after  a  subterranean 
;  ivo  of  n<>ar  a  mile  !  The  grotto  of  Pausilyppo  has  been  one  of 
iiio  wonders  of  the  world  these  two  thousand  years,  and  it  exceeds 
all  expectation  as  a  curiosity.  Its  length  is  stated  at  two 
thousand  three  hundred  and  sixteen  feet,  its  breadth  twenty- 
two,  and  its  height  eighty-nine.  It  h  thronged  with  carts  and 
beasts  of  burden  of  all  descriptions,  and  the  echoing  cries  of  these 
noisy  Italian  drivers  are  almost  deafening.  Lamps,  struggling 
with  the  distant  daylight  as  you  near  the  end,  just  make  darkness 


ON   BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  67 

visible,  and  standing  in  the  centre  and  looking  either  way,  the 
far  distant  arch  of  daylight  glows  like  a  fire  through  the  cloud  of 
dust.  What  with  the  impressiveness  of  the  place,  and  the 
danger  of  driving  in  the  dark  amid  so  many  obstructions,  it  is 
rather  a  stirring  half-hour  that  is  spent  in  its  gloom !  One 
emerges  into  the  fresh  open  air  and  the  bright  light  of  day  with 
a  feeling  of  relief. 

The  drive  hence  to  Pozzuoli,  four  or  five  miles,  was  extremely 
beautiful.  The  fields  were  covered  with  the  new  tender  grain, 
and  by  the  short  passage  through  the  grotto  we  had  changed  a 
busy  and  crowded  city  for  scenes  of  as  quiet  rural  loveliness  as 
ever  charmed  the  eye.  We  soon  reached  the  lip  of  the  bay,  and 
then  the  road  turned  away  to  the  right,  along  the  beach,  passing 
the  small  island  of  Nisida  (where  Brutus  had  a  villa,  and  which 
is  now  a  prison  for  the  carbonari). 

Pozzuoli  soon  appeared,  and  mounting  a  hill  we  descended 
into  its  busy  square,  and  were  instantly  beset  by  near  a  hundred 
guides,  boatmen,  and  beggars,  all  preferring  their  claims  and 
services  at  the  tops  of  their  voices.  I  fixed  my  eye  on  the  most 
intelligent  face  among  them,  a  curly-headed  fellow  in  a  red 
lazzaroni  cap,  and  succeeded,  with  some  loss  of  temper,  in  getting 
him  aside  from  the  crowd  and  bargaining  for  our  boats. 

While  the  boatmen  were  forming  themselves  into  a  circle  to 
cast  lots  for  the  bargain,  we  walked  up  to  the  famous  ruins  of  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  Serapis.  This  was  one  of  the  largest  and 
richest  of  the  temples  of  antiquity.  It  was  a  quadrangular 
building,  near  the  edge  of  the  sea,  lined  with  marble,  and 
sustained  by  columns  of  solid  cipolino,  three  of  which  are  still 
standing.  It  was  buriod  by  an  earthquake  and  forgotten  for  a 
century  ov  two,  til!  in  173  ;  it  was  discovered  by  a  peasant,  wh'o 


68  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


struck  the  top  of  one  of  the  columns  in  digging.  We  stepped 
around  over  the  prostrate  fragments,  building  it  up  once  more 
in  fancy,  and  peopling  the  aisles  with  priests  and  worshippers.  In 
the  centre  of  the  temple  was  the  place  of  sacrifice,  raised  by 
flights  of  steps,  and  at  the  foot  still  remain  two  rings  of  Corin 
thian  brass,  to  which  the  victims  were  fastened,  and  near  them 
the  receptacles  for  their  blood  and  ashes.  The  whole  scene  has 
a  stamp  of  grandeur.  We  obeyed  the  call  of  our  red-bonnet 
guide,  whose  boat  waited  for  us  at  the  temple  stairs,  very  unwil 
lingly. 

As  we  pushed  off  from  the  shore,  we  deviated  a  moment  from 
our  course  to  look  at  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  mole.  Here 
probably  St.  Paul  set  his  foot,  landing  to  pursue  his  way  to 
Home.  The  great  apostle  spent  seven  days  at  this  place,  which 
was  then  called  Puteoli — a  fact  that  attaches  to  it  a  deeper 
interest  than  it  draws  from  all  the  antiquities  of  which  it  is  the 
centre. 

We  kept  on  our  way  along  the  beautiful  bend  of  the  shore  of 
Baise,  and  passing  on  the  right  a  small  mountain  formed  iu 
thirty-six  hours  by  a  volcanic  explosion,  some  three  fcundrcd 
years  ago,  we  came  to  the  Lucrine  Lake,  so  famous  in  the 
classics  for  its  oysters.  The  same  explosion  that  made  the  Monte, 
Nuovo,  and  sunk  the  little  village  of  Tripergole,  destroyed  the 
oyster-beds  of  the  poets. 

A  ten  minutes'  walk  brought  us  to 'the  shores  of  Lake  Avernus 
• — the  "  Tartarus"  of  Virgil.  This  was  classic  ground  indeed, 
and  we  hoped  to  have  found  a  thumbed  copy  of  the  ^Eneid  in  tho 
pocket  of  the  cicerone.  He  had  not  even  heard  of  the  poet.  A 
ruin  on  the  opposite  shore,  reflected  in  the  still  dark  water,  is 
supposed  to  have  been  a  temple  dedicated  to  Proserpine.  If  she 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  69 


was  allowed  to  be  present  at  her  own  worship,  she  might  have 
been  consoled  for  her  abduction.  A  spot  of  more  secluded 
loveliness  could  scarce  be  found.  The  lake  lay  like  a  sheet  of 
silver  at  the  foot  of  the  ruined  temple,  the  water  looking  un- 
fathomably  deep  through  the  clear  reflection,  and  the  fringes  of 
low  shrubbery  leaning  down  on  every  side,  were  doubled  in  the 
bright  mirror,  the  likeness  even  fairer  than  the  reality. 

Our  unsentimental  guide  hurried  us  away  as  we  were  seating 
ourselves  upon  the  banks,  and  We  struck  into  a  narrow  footpath 
of  wild  shrubbery  which  circled  the  lake,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
stood  before  the  door  of  a  grotto  sunk  in  the  side  of  the  hill. 
Here  dwelt  the  Cuiuaean  syl  ;3,andby  this  dark  passage,  the  souls 
of  the  ancients  p;issod  from  Tartarus  to  Elysium.  The  guide 
struck  a  light  and  kindled  two  large  torches,  and  we  followed  him 
into  the  narrow  cavern,  walking  downward  at  a  rapid  pace  for 
ten  or  fifteen  minutes.  "With  a  turn  to  the  right,  we  stood 
before  a  low  archway  which  the  guide  entered,  up  to  his  knees  in 
water  at  the  first  step.  It  looked  like  the  mouth  of  an  abyss, 
and  the  ladies  refused  to  go  on.  Six  or  seven  stout  fallows  had 
folio we£  us  in,  and  the  guide  assured  us  we  should  be  safe  on 
their  backs.  I  mounted  first  myself  to  carry  the  torch,  and 
holding  my  head  very  low,  we  went  plunging  on,  turning  to  the 
right  and  left  through  a  crooked  passage,  dark  as  Erebus,  till  I 
was  set  down  on  a  raised  ledge  called  the  sybil's  bed.  The  lady 
behind  me,  I  soon  discovered  by  her  screams,  had  not  made  so 
prosperous  a  voyage.  She  had  insisted  on  being  taken  up  some 
thing  in  the  side-saddle  fashion  ;  and  the  man,  not  accustomed  to 
hold  so  heavy  a  burden  on  his  hip  with  one  arm,  had  stumbled 
and  let  her  slip  up  to  her  knees  in  water.  He  took  her  up 
immediately,  in  his  own  homely  but  safer  fashion,  and  she  was 


70  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


soon  set  beside  me  on  the  sybil's  stony  couch,  dripping  with 
water,  and  quite  out  of  temper  with  antiquities. 

The  rest  of  the  party  followed,  and  the  guide  lifted  the  torches 
to  the  dripping  roof  of  the  cavern,  and  showed  us  the  remains  of 
beautiful  mosiac  with  which  the  place  was  once  evidently 
encrusted.  Whatever  truth  there  may  be  in  the  existence  of  the 
sybil,  these  had  been,  doubtlessly,  luxurious  baths,  and  probably 
devoted  by  the  Roman  emperors  to  secret  licentiousness.  The 
guide  pointed  out  to  us  a  small  perforation  in  the  rear  of  the 
sybil's  bed,  whence,  he  said  (by  what  authority  I  know  not), 
Caligula  used  to  watch  the  lavations  of  the  nymph.  It  commu 
nicates  with  an  outer  chamber. 

We  reappeared,  our  nostrils  edged  with  black  from  the  smoke 
of  the  torches,  and  the  ladies'  dresses  in  a  melancholy  plight, 
between  smoke  and  water.  It  would  be  a  witch  of  a  sybil  that 
would  tempt  us  to  repeat  our  visit. 

We  retraced  our  steps,  and  embarked  for  Nero^s  villa.  It  was 
perhaps  a  half  mile  further  down  the  bay.  The  only  remains  of 
it  were  some  vapor  baths,  built  over  a  boiling  spring  which 
extended  under  the  sea.  One  of  our  boatmen  waded  firlt  a  few 
feet  into  the  surf,  and  plunging  under  the  cold  sea-water,  brought 
up  a  handful  of  warm  gravel — the  evidence  of  a  submarine  outlet 
from  the  springs  beyond.  We  then  mounted  a  high  and  ruined 
flight  of  steps,  and  entered  a  series  of  chambers  dug  out  of  the 
rock,  where  an  old  man  was  stripping  off  his  shirt,  to  go  through 
the  usual  process  of  taking  eggs  down  to  boil  in  the  fountain. 
He  took  his  bucket,  drew  a  long  breath  of  fresh  air,  and  rushed 
away  by  a  dark  passage,  whence  he  reappeared  in  three  or  four 
minutes,  the  eggs  boiled,  and  the  perspiration  streaming  from  his 
body  like  rain.  He  set  the  bucket  down,  and  rushed  to  the- 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  71 


door,  gasping  as  if  from  suffocation.  The  eggs  were  boiled  hard, 
but  the  distress  of  the  old  man,  and  the  danger  of  such  sudden 
changes  of  atmosphere  to  his  health,  quite  destroyed  our  pleasure 
at  the  phenomenon. 

Hence  to  the  cape  of  Misenum,  the  curve,  of  the  bay  presents 
one  continuation  of  Roman  villas.  And  certainly  there  was  not 
prdbably  in  the  world,  a  place  more  adapted  to  the  luxury  of 
which  it  was  the  scene.  These  natural  baths,  the  many  mineral 
waters,  the  balmy  climate,  the  fertile  soil,  the  lovely  scenery,  the 
matchless  curve  of  the  shore  from  Pozzuoli  to  the  cape,  and  the 
vicinity,  by  that  wonderful  subterranean  passage,  to  a  populous 
capital  on  the  other  side  of  a  range  of  mountains,  rendered  Baias 
a  natural  paradise  to  the  emperors.  It  was  improved  as  we  see. 
Temples  to  Venus,  Diana,  and  Mercury,  the  villas  of  Marius,  of 
Hortensius,  of  Caesar,  of  Lucullus,  and  others  whose  masters  are 
disputed,  follow  each  other  in  rival  beauty  of  situation.  The 
ruins  are  not  much  now,  except  the  temple  of  Yenus,  which  is 
one  of  the  most  picturesque  fragments  of  antiquity  I  have  ever  seen. 
The  long  vines  hang  through  the  rent  in  its  circular  roof,  and  the 
bright  flowers  cling  to  the  crevices  in  its  still  half-splendid  walls 
with  the  very  poetry  of  decay.  Our  guide  here  proposed  a 
'lunch.  We  sat  down  on  the  immense  stone  which  has  fallen 
from  the  ceiling,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  rough  table  was  spread 
with  a  hundred  open  oysters  from  Fusaro  (near  Lake  Avernus), 
bottles  at  will  of  lagrima  christi  from  Vesuvius,  boiled  crabs 
from  the  shore  beneath  the  temple  of  Mercury,  fish  from  the 
Lucrine  lake,  and  bread  from  Pozzuoli.  The  meal  was  not  less 
classic  than  refreshing.  We  drank  to  the  goddess  (the  only  one 
in  mythology,  by  the  way,  whose  worship  has  not  fallen  into 
contempt),  and  leaving  twenty  ragged  descendants  of  ancient 


72  SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

Baise  to  feast  on  the  remains,  mounted  our  donkeys  and  started 
over  land  for  "  Elysium." 

We  passed  the  villa  of  Hortensius,  to  which  Nero  invited  his 
mother,  with  the  design  of  murdering  her,  visited  the  immense 
subterranean  chambers  in  which  water  was  kept  for  the  Roman 
fleet,  the  horrid  prisons  called  the  Cento  Camerdle  of  the 
emperors,  and  then  rising  the  hill  at  the  extremity  of  the  cape, 
the  Stygian  lake  lay  off  on  the  right,  a  broad  and  gloomy  pool, 
and  around  its  banks  spread  the  Elysian  fields,  the  very  home 
and  centre  of  classic  fable.  An  overflowed  marsh,  and  an  adja 
cent  corn-field  will  give  you  a  perfect  idea  of  it.  The  sun  was 
setting  while  we  swallowed  our  disappointment,  and  we  turned 
our  donkeyjs'  heads  toward  Naples. 

We  left  the  city  again  this  morning  by  the  grotto  of  Pausilyppo 
to  visit  the  celebrated  "  Grotto  del  Cane."  It  is  about  three 
miles  off,  on  the  borders  of  a  pretty  lake,  once  the  crater  of  a 
volcano.  On  the  way  there  arose  a  violent  debate  in  the  party 
on  the  propriety  of  subjecting  the  poor  dogs  to  the  distress  of  the 
common  experiment.  AVe  had  not  yet  decided  the  point  when 
we  stopped  before  the  door  of  the  keeper's  house.  Two  misera 
ble-looking  terriers  had  set  up  a  howl,  accompanied  with  a 
ferocious  and  half-complaining  bark,  from  our  first  appearance- 
around  the  turn  of  the  road,  and  the  appeal  was  effectual.  We 
dismounted  and  walking  toward  the  grotto,  determined  to  refuse 
to  see  the  phenomenon.  Our  scruples  were  unnecessary.  The 
door  was  surrounded  with  another  party  less  merciful,  and  as 
we  approached,  two  dogs  were  dragged  out  by  the  heels,  and 
thrown  lifeless  on  the  grass.  We  gathered  round  them,  and 
while  the  old  woman  coolly  locked  the  door  of  the  grotto,  the 
poor  animals  began  to  kick,  and  after  a  few  convulsions,  struggled 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  73 


to  their  feet  and  crept  feebly  away.  Fresh  dogs  were  offered  to 
our  party,  but  we  contented  ourselves  with  the  more  innocent 
experiments.  The  mephitic  air  of  this  cave  rises  to  a  foot  above 
the  surface  of  the  ground,  and  a  torch  put  into  it  was  immediately 
extinguished.  It  has  been  described  too  often,  however,  to  need 
a  repetition.  We  took  a  long  stroll  around  the  lake,  which  was 
covered  with  wild-fowl,  visited  the  remains  of  a  villa  of  Lucullus 
on  the  opposite  shore,  and  returned  to  Naples  to  dinner. 


LETTER  VII, 

Island  of  Sicily— Palermo— Saracenic  appearance  of  the  town—  Cathedral— The  Marina- 
Viceroy  Leopold— Monastery  of  tho  Capuchins— Celebrated  Catacombs— Fanciful 
Gardens. 

FRIGATE  UNITED  STATES,  June  25. — THE  mountain  coast  of 
Sicily  lay  piled  up  before  us  at  the  distance  of  ten  or  twelve 
miles,  when  I  came  on  deck  this  morning.  The  quarter-master 
handed  me  the  glass,  and  running  my  eye  along  the  shore,  I 
observed  three  OP  four  low  plains,  extending  between  projecting 
spurs  of  the  hills,  studded  thickly  with  country-houses,  and 
bright  with  groves  which  I  knew,  by  the  deep  glancing  green,  to 
be  the  orange.  In  a  corner  of  the  longest  of  these  intervals,  a 
sprinkling  of  white,  looking  in  the  distance  like  a  bed  of  pearly 
shells  on  the  edge  of  the  sea,  was  pointed  put  as  Palermo.  With 
a  steady  glass  its  turrets  and  gardens  became  apparent,  and  its 
mole,  bristling  above  the  wall  with  masts  ;  and,  running  in  with 
a  free  wind,  the  character  of  our  ship  was  soon  recognised  from 
the  shore,  and  the  flags  of  every  vessel  in  the  harbor  ran  up  to 
the  mast,  the  customary  courtesy  to  a  man-of-war  entering 
port. 

As  the  ship  came  to  her  anchorage,  the  view  of  the  city  was 
very  captivating.  The  bend  of  the  shore  embraced  our  position, 
and  the  eastern  half  of  the  curve  was  a  succession  of  gardens  and 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN.  75 


palaces.  A  broad  street  extended  along  in  front,  crowded  with 
people  gazing  at  the  frigates,  and  up  one  of  the  long  avenues  of 
the  public  gardens,  we  could  distinguish  the  veiled  women 
walking  in  groups,  children  playing,  priests,  soldiers,  and  all  the 
motley  frequenters  of  such  places  in  this  idle  clime,  enjoying  the 
refreshing  sea-breeze,  upon  whose  wings  we  had  corne.  I  was 
impatient  to  get  ashore,  but  between  the  health-officer  and  some 
other  hindrances,  it  was  evening  before  we  set  foot  upon  the 
pier. 

With  Captain  Nicholson  and  the  purser  I  walked  up  to  the 
Toledo,  as  the  still  half-asleep  tradesmen  were  opening  their 
shops  after  the  siesta.  The  oddity  of  the  Palermitan  style  of 
building  struck  me  forcibly.  Of  the  two  long  streets,  crossing 
each  oilier  at  right  angles  and  extending  to  the  four  gates  of  the 
city,  the  lower  story  of  every  house  is  a  shop,  of  course.  The 
second  and  third  stories  are  ornamented  with  tricksy-looking  iron 
balconies,  in  winch  the  women  sit  at  work  universally,  while 
from  above  projects,  far  over  the  street,  a  grated  enclosure,  like 
a  long  bird-cage,  from  which  look  down  girls  and  children  (or,  if 
it  is  a  convent,  the  nuns),  as  if  it  were  an  airy  prison  to  keep  the 
household  from  the  contact  of  the  world.  The  whole  air  of 
Palermo  is  different  from  that  of  the  towns  upon  the  continent. 
The  peculiarities  are  said  to  be  Saracenic,  and  inscriptions  in 
Arabic  are  still  found  upon  the  ancient  buildings.  The  towu  is 
poetically  called  the  concha  d'oro,  or  "  the  golden  shell." 

We  walked  on  to  the  cathedral,  followed  by  a  troop  of  literally 
naked  beggars,  baked  black  in  the  sun,  and  more  emaciated  and 
diseased  than  any  I  have  yet  seen  abroad.  Their  crios  and 
gestures  were  painfully  energetic.  In  the  course  of  five  minutes 
we  had  seen  two  or  three  hundred.  They  lay  along  the 


76          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

sidewalks,  and  upon  the  steps  of  the  houses  and  churches,  men, 
women,  and  children,  nearly  or  quite  naked,  and  as  unnoticed  by 
the  inhabitants  as  the  stones  of  the  street. 

Ten  or  twenty  indolent-looking  priests  sat  in  the  shade  of  the 
porch  of  the  cathedral.  The  columns  of  the  vestibule  were 
curiously  wrought,  the  capitals  exceedingly  rich  with  fretted 
leaf- work,  and  the  ornaments  of  the  front  of  the  same  wild- 
looking  character  as  the  buildings  of  the  town.  A  hunchback 
scarce  three  feet  high,  came  up  and  offered  his  services  as  a 
cicerone,  and  we  entered  the  church.  The  antiquity  of  the 
interior  was  injured  by  the  new  white  paint,  covering  every  pait 
except  the  more  valuable  decorations,  but  with  its  four  splendid 
sarcophagi  standing  like  separate  buildings  in  the  aisles,  an<l 
covering  the  ashes  of  Ruggiero  and  his  kinsmen  ;  the  eighty 
columns  of  Egyptian  granite  in  the  nave  ;  the  cllorio  of  entire 
lapis-lazuli  with  its  lovely  blue,  and  the  mosaics,  frescoes  and 
relievoes  about  the  altar,  it  could  scarce  fail  of  producing  ;m 
effect  of  great  richness.  The  floor  was  occupied  by  here  and 
there  a  kneeling  beggar,  praying  in  his  rags,  and  undisturbt  d 
even  by  the  tempting  neighborhood  of  strangers.  I  stood  long 
by  an  old  man,  who  seemed  hardly  to  have  the  strength  to  hold 
himself  upon  his  knees.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  a  1cm  ly 
picture  of  the  virgin,  and  his  trembling  hands  loosed  bond  ai't  r 
bead  as  his  prayer  proceeded.  I  slipped  a  small  piecj  of  fcilv  >  • 
between  his  palm  and  the  cross  of  his  rosary,  and  without 
removing  his  eyes  from  the  face  of  the  holy  mother,  he  implored 
an  audible  blessing  upon  me  in  a  tone  of  the  most  earnest 
feeling.  I  hav^  scarce  been  so  moved  within  my  recollection. 

The  equipages  were  beginning  to  roll  toward  the  "  Marina," 
and  the  sea-breeze  was  felt  even  through  the  streets.  We  took 


ON  BOARD   AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  77 

a  carriage  and  followed  to  the  corso,  where  we  counted  near  two 
hundred  gay,  well-appointed  equipages,  in  the  course  of  an  hour. 
What  a  contrast  to  the  wretchedness  we  had  left  behind  ! 
Driving  up  and  down  this  half  mile  in  front  of  the  palaces  on  the 
sea,  seemed  quite  a  sufficient  amusement  for  the  indolent  nobility 
of  Palermo.  They  were  named  to  us  by  their  imposing  titles  as 
they  passed,  and  we  looked  in  vain  into  their  dull  unanimated 
faces  for  the  chivalrous  character  of  the  once  renowned  knights 
of  Sicily.  Ladies  and  gentlemen  sat  alike  silent,  leaning  back  in 
their  carriages  in  the  elegant  attitudes  studied  to  such  effect  on 
this  side  of  the  water,  and  gazing  for  acquaintances  among  those 
passing  on  the  opposite  line. 

Toward  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  an  avant-courier  on  horseback 
announced  the  approach  of  the  viceroy  Leopold,  the  brother  of 
the  king  of  Naples.  He  drove  himself  in  an  English  hunting- 
wagon  with  two  seats,  and  looked  like  a  dandy  whip  of  the  first 
water  from  Regent  street.  He  is  about  twenty  and  quite  hand 
some.  His  horses,  fine  English  bays,  flew  up  and  down  the  short 
corso,  passing  and  repassing  every  other  minute,  till  we  were 
weary  of  touching  our  hats  and  stopping  *ill  he  had  gone  by. 
He  noticed  the  uniform  of  our  officers,  and  raised  his  hat  with 
particular  politeness  to  them. 

As  it  grew  dark,  the  carriages  came  to  a  stand  around  a  small 
open  gallery  raised  in  the  broadest  part  of  the  Marina.  Rows  of 
lamps,  suspended  from  the  roof,  were  lit,  and  a  band  of  forty  or 
fifty  musicians  appeared  in  the  area,  and  played  parts  of  the 
popular  operas.  We  were  told  they  performed  every  night  from 
nine  till  twelve.  Chairs  were  set  around  for  the  people  on  foot, 
ices  circulated,  and  some  ten  or  twelve  thousand  people  enjoyed 
the  music  in  a  delicious  moonlight,  keeping  perfect  silence  from 


78  SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  first  note  to  the  last.  These  heavenly  nights  of  Italy  are 
thus  begun,  and  at  twelve  the  people  separate  and  go  to  visit,  or 
lounge  at  home  till  morning,  when  the  windows  are  closed,  the 
cool  night  air  shut  in,  and  they  sleep  till  evening  comes  again, 
literally  "keeping  the  hours  the  stars  do."  It  is  very  certain 
that  it  is  the  only  way  to  enjoy  life  in  this  enervating  climate. 
The  sun  is  the  worst  enemy  to  health,  and  life  and  spirits  sink 
under  its  intensity.  The  English,  who  are  the  only  people 
abroad  in  an  Italian  noon,  are  constant  victims  to  it. 


We  drove  this  morning  to  the  monastery  of  the  Capuchins. 
Three  or  four  of  the  brothers  in  long  gray  beards,  and  the  heavy 
brown  sackcloth  cowls  of  the  order  tied  around  the  waist  with 
ropes,  received  us  cordially  and  took  us  through  the  cells  and 
chapels.  "We  had  come  to  see  the  famous  catacombs  of  the 
convent.  A  door  was  opened  on  the  side  of  the  main  cloister, 
and  we  descended  a  long  flight  of  stairs  into  the  centre  of  three 
lofty  vaults,  lighted  each  by  a  window  at  the  extremity  of  tho 
ceiling.  A  more  frightful  scene  never  appalled  the  eye.  The 
walla  were  lined  with  shallow  niches,  from  which  hung,  leaning 
forward  as  if  to  fall  upon  the  gazer,  the  dried  bodies  of  monks  in 
the  full  dress  of  their  order.  Their  hands  were  crossed  upon 
their  breasts  or  hung  at  their  sides,  their  faces  were  blackened 
and  withered,  and  every  one  seemed  to  have  preserved,  in 
diabolical  caricature,  the  very  expression  of  life.  The  hair  lay 
reddened  and  dry  on  the  dusty  skull,  the  teeth,  perfect  or 
imperfect,  had  grown  brown  in  their  open  mouths,  the  nose  had 
shrunk,  the  cheeks  fallen  in  and  cracked,  and  they  looked  more 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  79 


like  living  men  cursed  with  some  horrid  plague,  than  tho 
inanimate  corpses  they  were.  The  name  of  each  was  pinned 
upon  his  cowl,  with  his  age  and  the  time  of  his  death.  Below  in 
three  or  four  tiers,  lay  long  boxes  painted  fantastically,  and 
containing,  the  monk  told  us,  the  remains  of  Sicilian  nobles. 
Upon  a  long  shelf  above  sat  perhaps  a  hundred  children  of  from 
one  year  to  five,  in  little  chairs  worn  with  their  use  while  in  life, 
dressed  in  the  gayest  manner,  with  fanciful  caps  upon  their  little 
blackened  heads,  dolls  in  their  hands,  and  in  one  or  two  instances, 
a  stuffed  dog  or  parrot  lying  in  their  laps.  A  more  horribly 
ludicrous  collection  of  little  withered  faces,  shrunk  into  expression 
so  entirely  inconsistent  with  the  gayety  of  their  dresses,  could 
scarce  be  conceived.  One  of  them  had  his  arm  tied  up,  holding 
a  child's  whip  in  the  act  of  striking,  while  the  poor  thing's  head 
had  rotted  and  dropped  upon  its  breast ;  and  a  leather  cap  fallen 
.on  one  side,  showed  his  bare  skull,  with  the  most  comical 
expression  of  carelessness.  We  quite  shocked  the  old  monk  with 
our  laughter,  but  the  scene  was  irresistible. 

We  went  through  several  long  galleries  filled  in  the  same 
manner,  with  the  dead  monks  standing  over  the  coffins  of  nobles, 
and  children  on  the  shelf  above.  There  were  three  thousand 
bodies  and  upward  in  the  place,  monks  and  all.  Some  of  them 
were  very  ancient.  There  was  one,  dated  a  century  and  a  half 
back,  whose  tongue  still  hangs  from  his  mouth.  The  friar  took 
hold  of  it,  and  moved  it  up  and  down,  rattling  it  against  his 
teeth.  It  was  like  a  piece  of  dried  fish-skin,  and  as  sharp  and 
thin  as  a  nail. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  last  passage  was  a  new  vault 
appropriated  to  women.  There  were  nine  already  lying  on 
white  pillows  in  the  different  recesses,  who  had  died  within  the 


80  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

year,  and  among  them  a  young  girl,  the  daughter  of  a  noble 
family  of  Palermo,  stated  in  the  inscription  to  have  been  a  virgin 
of  seventeen  years.  The  monk  said  her  twin-sister  was  the 
most  beautiful  woman  of  the  city  at  this  moment.  She  was  laid 
upon  her  back,  on  a  small  shelf  faced  with  a  wire  grating, 
dressed  in  white,  with  a  large  bouquet  of  artificial  flowers  on  the 
centre  of  the  body.  Her  hands  and  face  were  exposed,  and  the 
skin  which  seemed  to  me  scarcely  dry,  was  covered  with  small 
black  ants.  I  struck  with  my  stick  against  the  shelf,  and, 
startled  by  the  concussion,  the  disgusting  vermin  poured  from  the 
mouth  and  nostrils  in  hundreds.  How  difficult  it  is  to  believe 
that  the  beauty  we  worship  must  come  to  this  ! 
•  As  we  went  toward  the  staircase,  the  friar  showed  us  the 
deeper  niches,  in  which  the  bodies  were  placed  for  the  first  six 
months.  There  were  fortunately  no  fresh  bodies  in  them  at  the 
time  of  our  visit.  The  stench,  for  a  week  or  two,  he  told  us, 
was  intolerable.  They  are  suffered  to  get  quite  dry  here,  and 
then  are  disposed  of  according  to  their  sex  or  profession.  A 
rope  passed  round  the  middle,  fastens  the  dead  monk  to  his 
shallow  niche,  and  there  he  stands  till  his  bones  rot  from  each 
other,  sometimes  for  a  century  or  more. 

We  hurried  up  the  gloomy  stairs,  and  giving  the  monk  our 
gratuity,  were  passing  out  of  the  cloister  to  our  carriage,  when 
two  of  the  brothers  entered,  bearing  a  sedan  chair  with  the 
blinds  closed.  Our  friend  called  us  back,  and  opened  the  door. 
An  old  gray-headed  woman  sat  bolt  upright  within,  with  a  ropo 
around  her  body  and  another  around  her  neck,  supporting  her  by 
two  rings  in  the  back  of  the  sedan.  She  had  died  that  morning, 
and  was  brought  to  be  dried  in  the  capuchin  catacombs.  The 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  81 


effect  of  the  newly  deceased  body  in  a  handsome  silk  dress  and 
plaited  cap  was  horrible. 

We  drove  from  the  monastery  to  the  gardens  of  a  Sicilian 
prince,  near  by.  I  was  agreeably  disappointed  to  find  the 
grounds  laid  out  in  the  English  taste,  winding  into  secluded 
walks  shaded  with  undipped  trees,  and  opening  into  glades  of 
greensward  cooled  by  fountains.  TVe  strolled  on  from  one  sweet 
spot  to  another,  coming  constantly  upon  little  Grecian  temples, 
ruins,  broken  aqueducts,  aviaries,  bowers  furnished  with  curious 
seats  and  tables,  bridges  over  streams,  and  labyrinths  of 
shrubbery,  ending  in  hermitages  built  curiously  of  cane.  So 
far,  the  garden,  though  lovely,  was  like  .many  others.  On  our 
return,  the  person  who  accompanied  us  began  to  surprise  us 
with  singular  contrivances,  fortunately  selecting  the  coachman 
who  had  driven  us  as  the  subject  of  his  experiments.  In  the 
middle  of  a  long  green  alley  he  requested  him  to  step  forward  a 
few  paces,  and,  in  an  instant,  streams  of  water  poured  upon  him 
from  the  bushes  around  in  every  direction.  There  were  seats  in 
the  arbors,  the  least  pressure  of  which  sent  up  a  stream  beneath 
the  unwary  visitor  ;  steps  to  an  ascent,  which  you  no  sooner 
touched  than  you  were  showered  from  an  invisible  source  ;  and 
one  small  hermitage,  which  sent  a  jet  d'eyu  into  the  face  of  a 
person  lifting  the  latch.  Nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  garden 
stood  a  pretty  building,  with  an  ascending  staircase.  At  the  first 
step,  a  friar  in  white,  represented  to  the  life  in  wax,  opened  the 
door,  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  comer.  At  the  next  step,  the 
door  was  violently  shut.  At  the  third,  it  was  half  opened 
again,  and  as  the  foot  pressed  the  platform  above,  both  doors 
flew  wide  open,  and  the  old  friar  made  room  for  the  visitor  to 
enter.  Life  itself  could  not  have  been  more  natural.  Tho 


82          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN. 

garden  was  full  of  similar  tricks.  We  were  hurried  away  by  an 
engagement  before  we  had  seen  them  all,  and  stopping  for  a 
moment  to  look  at  a  magnificent  Egyptian  Ibis,  walking  around 
in  an  aviary  like  a  temple,  we  drove  into  town  to  dinner. 


LETTER   VIII, 

The    Lunatic   Asylum    nt   Palermo. 

PALERMO,  June  28. — Two  of  the  best  conducted  lunatic 
asylums  in  the  world  are  in  the  kingdom  of  Naples — one  at 
Aversa,  near  Capua,  and  the  other  at  Palermo.  The  latter  is 
managed  by  a  whimsical  Sicilian  baron,  who  has  devoted  his 
time  and  fortune  to  it,  and  with  the  assistance  of  the  govern 
ment,  has  carried  it  to  great  extent  and  pe* faction.  The  poor 
are  received  gratuitously,  and  those  who  can  .afford  it  enter  as 
boarders,  and  are  furnished  with  luxuries  according  to  their 
means. 

The  hospital  stands  in  an  airy  situation  in  the  lovely  neighbor 
hood  of  Palermo.  We  were  received  by  a  porter  in  a  respectable 
livery,  who  introduced  us  immediately  to  the  old  baron — a  kind- 
looking  man,  rather  advanced  beyond  middle  life,  of  manners 
singularly  genteel  and  prepossessing.  u  Je  suis  le  premier  fou," 
said  he,  throwing  his  arms  out,  as  he  bowed  on  our  entrance. 
We  stood  in  an  open  court,  surrounded  with  porticoes  lined  with 
stone  seats.  On  one  of  them  lay  a  fat,  indolent-looking  man,  in 
clean  gray  clothes,  talking  to  himself  with  great  apparent 
satisfaction.  He  smiled  at  the  baron  as  he  passed,  without 
checking  the  motion  of  his  lips,  and  three  others  standing  in  the 


84  SUMMER   CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

doorway  of  a  room  marked  as  the  kitchen,  smiled  also  as  he 
came  up,  and  fell  into  his  train,  apparently  as  much  interested  as 
ourselves  in  the  old  man's  explanations. 

The  kitchen  was  occupied  by  eight  or  ten  people,  all  at  work, 
and  all,  the  baron  assured  us,  mad.  One  man,  of  about  forty, 
was  broiling  a  steak  with  the  gravest  attention.  Another,  who 
had  been  furious  till  employment  was  given  him,  was  chopping 
meat  with  violent  industry  in  a  large  wooden  bowl.  Two  or 
three  girls  were  about,  obeying  the  little  orders  of  a  middle-aged 
man,  occupied  with  several  messes  cooking  on  a  patent  stove.  I 
was  rather  incredulous  about  his  insanity,  till  he  took  a  small 
bucket  and  went  to  the  jet  of  a  fountain,  and  getting  impatient 
from  some  cause  or  other,  dashed  the  water  upon  the  floor.  The 
baron  mildly  culled  him  by  name,  and  mentioned  to  him,  as  a 
piece  or  information,  that  he  had  wet  the  floor.  He  nodded  his 
head,  and  filling  his  bucket  quietly,  poured  a  little  into  one  of  the 
pans,  and  resumed  Ins  occupation. 

NVu  passed  from  the  kitchen  into  an  open  court,  curiously 
pav<-d.  and  ornamented  with  Chinese  grottoes,  artificial  rocks, 
trees,  cottages,  and  fountains.  Within  the  grottoes  reclined 
ii^Uiv.s  (,-f  wax.  Before  the  altar  of  one,  fitted  up  as  a  Chinese 
chapel,  a  mandarin  was  prostrated  in  prayer.  The  walls  on 
every  side  were  painted  in  perspective  scenery,  and  the  wholo 
had  as  little  the  air  of  a  prison  as  the  open  valley  itself.  In  one 
of  the  corners  was  an  unfinished  grotto,  and  a  handsome  youui* 
man  was  entirely  absorbed  in  thatching  the  ceiling  with  strips  of 
cane.  The  baron  pointed  to  him,  and  said  he  had  been  incurable 
till  he  had  found  this  employment  for  him.  Everything  about, 
us,  too,  he  assured  us,  was  the  work  of  his  patients.  They  had 
paved  the  court,  built  the  grottoes  and  cottages,  and  painted  the 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  85 


walls,  under  his  direction.  The  secret  of  his  whole  system,  he 
said,  was  employment  and  constant  kindness.  He  had  usually 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  patients^  and  he  dismissed  upon  an 
average  two-thirds  of  them  quite  recovered. 

We  went  into  the  apartments  of  the  women.  These,  he  said, 
were  his  worst  subjects.  In  the  first  room  sat  eight  or  ten 
employed  in  spinning,  while  one  infuriated  creature,  not  more 
than  thirty,  but  quite  gray,  was  walking  up  and  down  the  floor, 
talking  and  gesticulating  with  the  greatest  violence.  A  young 
girl  of  sixteen,  an  attendant,  had  entered  into  her  humor,  and 
with  her  arm  put  affectionately  round  her  waist,  assented  to 
everything  she  said,  and  called  her  by  every  name  of  endearment 
while  endeavoring  to  silence  her.  When  the  baron  entered,  the 
poor  creature  addressed  herself  to  him,  and  seemed  delighted 
that  he  had  come.  He  made  several  mild  attempts  to  check  her, 
but  she  seized  his  hands,  and  with  the  veins  of  her  throat 
swelling  with  passion,  her  eyes  glaring  terribly,  and  her  tongue 
white  and  trembling,  she  continued  to  declaim  more  and  more 
violently.  The  baron  gave  an  order  to  a  male  attendant  at  the 
door,  and  beckoning  us  to  follow,  led  her  gently  through  a  small 
court  planted  with  trees,  to  a  room  containing  a  hammock.  She 
checked  her  torrent  of  language  as  she  observed  the  preparations 
going  on,  and  seemed  amused  with  the  idea  of  swinging.  The 
man  took  her  up  in  his  arms  without  resistance,  and  laced  the 
hammock  over  her,  confining  everything  but  her  head,  and  the 
female  attendant,  one  of  the  most  playful  and  prepossessing  little 
creatures  I  ever  saw,  stood  on  a  chair,  and  at  every  swing  threw 
a  little  water  on  her  face,  as  if  in  sport.  Once  or  twice,  the 
maniac  attempted  to  resume  the  subject  of  her  ravings,  but  the 
girl  laughed  in  her  face  and  diverted  her  from  it,  till  at  last  she 


86  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


female  attendant,  one  of  the  most  playful  and  prepossessing  little 
creatures  I  ever  saw,  stood  on  a  chair,  and  at  every  swing  threw 
a  little  water  on  her  face,  as  if  in  sport.  Once  or  twice,  the 
maniac  attempted  to  resume  the  subject  of  her  ravings,  but  the 
girl  laughed  in  her  face  and  diverted  her  from  it,  till  at  last  she 
smiled,  and  dropping  her  head  into  the  hammock,  seemed 
disposed  to  sink  into  an  easy  sleep. 

We  left  her  swinging  and  went  out  into  the  court,  where  eight 
or  ten  women  in  the  gray  gowns  of  the  establishment  were  walking 
up  and  down,  or  sitting  under  the  trees,  lost  in  thought.  One, 
with  a  fine,  intelligent  face,  came  up  to  me  and  courtesied 
gracefully  without  speaking.  The  physician  of  the  establishment 
joined  me  at  the  moment,  and  asked  her  what  she  wished. 
"  To  kiss  his  hand,"  said  she,  "  but  his  looks  forbade  me."  She 
colored  deeply,  and  folded  h»er  arms  across  her  breast  and  walked 
away.  The  baron  called  us,  and  in  going  out  I  passed  her 
again,  and  taking  her  hand,  kissed  it,  and  bade  her  good-bye. 
"  You  had  better  kiss  my  lips,"  said  she,  "  you'll  never  see  me 
again."  She  laid  her  forehead  against  the  iron  bars  of  the  gate, 
and  with  a  face  working  with  emotion,  watched  us  till  we  turned 
out  of  sight.  I  asked  the  physician  for  her  history,  u  It  was  a 
common  case,"  he  said.  u  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  Sicilian 
noble,  who,  too  poor  to  marry  her  to  one  of  her  own  rank,  had 
sent  her  to  a  convent,  where  confinement  had  driven  her  mad. 
She  is  now  a  charity  patient  in  the  asylum." 

The  courts  in  which  these  poor  creatures  are  confined,  open 
upon  a  large  and  lovely  garden.  We  walked  through  it  with  the 
baron,  and  then  returned  to  the  apartments  of  the  females.  In 
passing  a  cell,  a  large  majestic  woman  strided  out  with  a 
theatrical  air,  and  commenced  an  address  to  the  Deity,  in  a 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  87 


mark  of  superiority  both  of  birth  and  endowment.  The  baron 
took  her  by  the  hand  with  the  deferential  courtesy  of  the  old 
school,  and  led  her  to  one  of  the  stone  seats.  She  yielded  to 
him  politely,  but  resumed  her  harangue,  upbraiding  the  Deity,  as 
well  as  I  could  understand  her,  for  her  misfortunes.  They 
succeeded  in  soothing  her  by  the  assistance  of  the  same  playful 
attendant  who  had  accompanied  the  other  to  the  hammock,  and 
she  sat  still,  with  her  lips  white  and  her  tongue  trembling  like 
an  aspen.  While  the  good  old  baron  was  endeavoring  to  draw 
her  into  a  quiet  conversation,  the  physician  told  me  some  curious 
circumstances  respecting  her.  She  was  a  Greek,  and  had  been 
brought  to  Palermo  when  a  girl.  Her  mind  had  been  destroyed 
by  an  illuos,  and  after  seven  years'  madness,  during  which  she 
had  refused  to  rise  from  her  bed,  and  had  quite  lost  the  use  o/ 
her  limbs,  she  was  brought  to  this  establishment  by  her  friends. 
Experiments  were  tried  in  vain  to  induce  her  to  move  from  her 
painful  position.  At  last  the  baron  determined  upon  addressing 
what  he  considered  the  master-passion  in  all  female  bosoms.  He 
dressed  himself  in  the  gayest  manner,  and,  in  one  of  her  gentle 
moments,  entered  her  room  with  respectful  ceremony  and  offered 
himself  to  her  in  marriage  !  She  refused  him  with  scorn,  and 
with  seeming  emotion  he  begged  forgiveness  and  left  her.  The 
next  morning,  on  his  entrance,  she  smiled — the  first  time  for 
years.  He  continued  his  attentions  for  a  day  or  two,  and  after  a 
little  coquetry,  she  one  morning  announced  to  him  that  she  had 
re-considered  his  proposal,  and  would  be  his  bride.  They  raised 
her  from  her  bed  to  prepare  her  for  the  ceremony,  and  hlie  was 
carried  in  a  chair  to  the  garden,  where  the  bridal  feast  was 
spread,  nearly  all  the  other  patients  of  the  hospital  being  present. 
The  gayety  of  the  scene  absorbed  the  attention  of  all ;  tho 


88  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

utmost  decorum  prevailed  ;  and  when  the  ceremony  was 
performed,  the  bride  was  crowned,  and  carried  back  in  state  to 
her  apartment.  She  recovered  gradually  the  use  of  her  limbs, 
her  health  is  improved,  and  excepting  an  occasional  paroxysm, 
such  as  we  happened  to  witness,  she  is  quiet  and  contented. 
The  other  inmates  of  the  asylum  still  call  her  the  bride  ;  and  the 
baron,  as  her  husband,  has  the  greatest  influence  over  her. 

While  the  physician  was  telling  me  these  circumstances,  the 
baron  had  succeeded  in  calming  her,  and  she  sat  with  her  arms 
folded,  dignified  and  silent.  He  was  still  holding  her  hand, 
when  the  woman  whom  we  had  left  swinging  in  the  hammock, 
came  striding  up  behind  the  trees  on  tiptoe,  arid  putting  her 
hand  suddenly  over  the  baron's  eyes,  kissed  him  on  "both  sides  of 
his  face,  Lug-iing  heartily,  and  calling  him  by  every  name  of 
oueetkiii.  The  contrast  between  this  mood  and  the  infuriated 
one  ia  which  we  had  found  her,  was  the  best  comment,  on  the 
goud  man's  system.  He  gently  disengaged  himself,  and  apolo- 
gided  to  his  lady  for  allowing  the  liberty,  and  we  followed  him  to 
another  apartment. 

It  opened  upon  a  pretty  court,  in  which  a  fountain  was  playing, 
and  against  the  columns  of  the  portico  sat  some  half  dozen  pa 
tients.  A  young  man  of  eighteen,  with  a  very  pale,  scholar-like 
i;;cc,  was  reading  Ariosto.  Near  him,  under  the  direction  of  an 
.-'.iti-ndant,  a  fair,  delicate  girl,  with  a  sadness  in  her  soft  blue 
rv.'s  that  might  have  been  a  study  for  a  mater  dolorosa,  was  cut- 
ti:;;r  paste  upon  a  board  laid  across  her  lap.  She  seemed  scarcely 
c  .-eious  of  what  she  was  about,  and  when  I  approached  and 
suoke  to  her,  she  laid  down  the  knife  and  rested  her  head  upon 
her  hand,  and  looked  at  me  steadily,  as  if  she  was  trying  to  recol- 
loet  where  she  had  known  inc.  ''  I  cannot  remember,"  she  said 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  §9 


to  herself,  and  went  on  with  her  occupation.  I  bowed  to  her  as 
we  took  our  leave,  and  she  returned  it  gracefully  but  coldly. 
The  young  man  looked  up  from  his  book  and  smiled,  the  old 
man  lying  on  the  stone  seat  in  the  outer  court  rose  up  and  fol 
lowed  us  to  the  door,  and  we  were  bowed  out -by  the  baron  and 
his  gentle  madmen  as  politely  and  kindly  as  if  we  were  conclud 
ing  a  visit  with  a  company  of  friends. 


An  evening  out  of  doors,  in  summer,  is  pleasant  enough  any 
where  in  Italy :  but  I  have  found  no  place  where  the  people  and 
their  amusements  were  so  concentrated  at  that  hour,  as  upon  the 
*'  Marina"  of  Palermo.  A  ramble  with  the  officers  up  and  down, 
renewing  the  acquaintances  made  with  visiters  to  the  ships,  list 
ening  to  the  music  and  observing  the  various  characters  of  the 
crowd,  concludes  every  day  agreeably.  A  terraced  promenade 
twenty  feet  above  the  street,  extends  nearly  the  whole  length  of 
the  Marina,  and  here,  under  the  balconies  of  the  viceroy's  palace, 
with  the  crescent  harbor  spread  out  before  the  eye,  trees  above, 
and  marble  seats  tempting  the  weary  at  every  step,  may  be  met 
pedestrians  of  every  class,  from  the  first  cool  hour  when  the  sea- 
breeze  sets  in  till  midnight  or  morning.  The  intervals  between 
the  pieces  performed  by  the  royal  band  in  the  centre  of  the  diive, 
is  seizwi  Ly  tho  wandering  improvisatrice,  or  the  ludicrous  pun- 
ciudlo.  ;-,:i',i  evon  the  beggars  cease  to  importune  in  the  general 
abandonment  to  pleasure.  Every  other  moment  the  air  is  fill  el 
with  a  delightful  perfume,  and  you  are  addressed  by  the  beare,- 
of  a  tall  pole  tied  thickly  with  the  odorous  flowers  of  this  voluptu 
ous  climate — a  mode  of  selling  these  cheap  luxuries  which  I  be 
lieve  is  peculiar  to  Palermo.  The  gayety  they  give  a  crowd,  by 


90  SUMMER   CRUISE   IN  THE   MEDITERRANEAN. 


the  way,  is  singular.  They  move  about  among  the  gaudily- 
dressed  contadini  like  a  troop  of  banners — tulips,  narcissus,  moss- 
roses,  branches  of  jasmine,  geraniums,  every  flower  that  is  rare 
and  beautiful  scenting  the  air  from  a  hundred  overladen  poles, 
and  the  merest  pittance  will  purchase  the  rarest  and  loveliest.  It 
seems  a  clime  of  fruits  and  flowers  ;  and  if  one  could  but  shut  his 
eyes  to  the  dreadful  contrasts  of  nakedness  and  starvation,  ho 
might  believe  himself  in  a  Utopia. 

We  were  standing  on  the  balcony  of  the  consul's  residence  (a 
charming  situation  overlooking  the  Marina),  and  remarking  the 
gayety  of  the  scene  on  the  first  evening  of  our  arrival.  The  con 
versation  turned  upon  the  condition  of  the  people.  The  consul 
remarked  that  it  was  an  every-day  circumstance  to  find  beggars 
starved  to  death  in  the  streets  ;  and  that,  in  the  small  villages 
near  Palermo,  eight  or  ten  were  often  taken  up  dead  from  the 
road-side  in  the  morning.  The  difficulty  of  getting  a  subsistence 
is  every  day  increasing,  and  in  the  midst  of  one  of  the  most  fertile 
spots  of  the  earth,  one  half  the  population  are  driven  to  the  last 
extremity  for  bread.  The  results  appear  in  constant  conspira 
cies  against  the  government,  detected  and  put  down  with  more  or 
less  difficulty.  The  island  is  garrisoned  with  troops  from  Italy, 
and  the  viceroy  has  lately  sent  to  his  brother  for  a  reinforcement, 
and  is  said  to  feel  very  insecure.  A  more  lamentably  mis 
governed  kingdom  than  that  of  the  Sicilies,  probably  does  not 
ex'^t  in  the  world. 


LETTER   IX, 

Palermo— Fete  given  by  Mr.  Gardiner,  the  American  Consul— Temple  of  Clitumnus— 
Cottage  of  Petrarch— Messina— Lipari  Islands— Scylla  and  Charybdis. 

PALERMO,  June  23.— The  curve  of  "  The  Golden  Shell,'7 
which  bends  to  the  east  of  Palermo,  is  a  luxuriant  plain  of  ten 
miles  in  length,  terminated  by  a  bluff  which  forms  a  headland 
corner  of  the  bay.  A  broad  neck  of  land  between  this  bay  and 
another  indenting  the  coast  less  deeply  on  the  other  side,  is  occu 
pied  by  a  cluster  of  summer  palaces  belonging  to  several  of  the 
richer  princes  of  Sicily.  The  breeze,  whenever  there  is  one  on 
land  or  sea,  sweeps  freshly  across  this  ridge,  and  a  more  desirable 
residence  for  combined  coolness  and  beauty  could  scarce  be  im 
agined.  The  Palermitan  princes,  however,  find  every  country 
more  attractive  than  their  own  ;  and  while  you  may  find  a  dozen 
of  them  in  any  city  of  Europe,  their  once  magnificent  residences 
are  deserted  and  falling  to  decay,  almost  without  an  exception. 

The  old  walls  of  one  of  these  palaces  were  enlivened  yesterday, 
by  a  fete  given  to  the  officers  of  the  squadron  by  the  American 
consul,  Mr.  Gardiner.  We  left  Palermo  in  a  long  cavalcade, 
followed  by  a  large  omnibus  containing  the  ship's  band,  early  in 
the  forenoon.  The  road  was  lined  with  prickly  pear  and  olean- 


92  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


der  in  the  most  luxuriant  blossom.  Exotics  in  our  country, 
these  plants  are  indigenous  to  Sicily,  and  form  the  only  hedges  to 
the  large  plantations  of  cane  and  the  spreading  vineyards  and 
fields.  A  more  brilliant  show  than  these  long  lines  of  trees, 
laden  with  bright  pink  flowers,  and  varied  by  the  gigantic  and 
massive  leaf  of  the  pear,  cannot  easily  be  imagined. 

We  were  to  visit  one  or  two  places  on  our  way.  The  carriage 
drew  up  about  eight  miles  from  town,  at  the  gate  of  a  ruinous 
building,  and  passing  through  a  deserted  court,  we  entered  an 
old-fashioned  garden,  presenting  one  succession  of  trimmed  walks, 
urns,  statues  and  fountains.  The  green  mould  of  age  and  ex 
posure  upon  the  marbles,  the  broken  seats,  the  once  costly  but 
now  ruined  and  silent  fountains,  the  tall  weeds  in  the  seldom- 
trodden  walks,  and  the  wild  vegetation  of  fragrant  jasmine  and 
brier  burying  everything  with  its  luxuriance,  all  told  the  story  of 
decay.  I  remembered  the  scenes  of  the  Decameron  ;  the  many 
"  tales  of  love,"  laid  in  these  very  gardens  ;  the  gay  romances  of 
which  Palermo  was  the  favorite  home ;  and  the  dames  and 
knights  of  Sicily  the  fairest  and  bravest  themes,  and  I  longed  to 
let  my  merry  companions  pass  on,  and  remain  to  realize  more 
deeply  the  spells  of  poetry  and  story.  The  pleasure  of  travel  is 
in  the  fancy.  Men  and  manners  are  so  nearly  alike  over  the 
world,  and  the  same  annoyances  disturb  so  certainly,  wherever 
we  arc,  the  gratification  of  seeing  and  conversing  with  our  living 
fellow-beings,  that  it  is  only  by  the  mingled  illusion  of  fancy  and 
memory,  by  getting  apart,  and  peopling  the  deserted  palace  or 
the  sombre  ruin  from  the  pages  of  a  book,  that  we  ever  realize  the 
anticipated  pleasure  of  standing  on  celebrated  ground.  The  eye, 
the  curiosity,  are  both  disappointed,  and  the  voice  of  a  common 
companion  reduces  the  most  romantic  ruin  to  a  heap  of  stone. 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  93 

In  some  of  the  footsteps  of  Childe  Harold  himself,  with  his  glori 
ous  thoughts  upon  my  lips,  and  all  that  moved  his  imagination 
addressing  my  eye,  with  the  additional  grace  which  his  poetry 
has  left  around  them,  I  have  found  myself  unable  to  overstep  the 
vulgar  circumstances  of  the  hour — the  "  Temple  of  Clitumnus" 
was  a  ruined  shed  glaring  in  the  sunshine,  and  the  "  Cottage  of 
Petrarch"  an  apology  for  extortion  and  annoyance. 

I  heard  a  shout  from  the  party,  and  followed  them  to  a  build 
ing  at  the  foot  of  a  garden.  I  passed  the  threshold  and  started 
back.  A  ghastly  monk,  with-  a  broom  in  his  hand,  stood  gazing 
at  me,  and  at  a  door  just  beyond,  a  decrepit  nun  was  see-sawing 
backward  and  forward,  ringing  a  bell  with  the  most  impatient 
violence.  I  ventured  to  pass  in,  and  a  door  opened  at  the  right, 
disclosing  the  self-denying  cell  of  a  hermit  with  his  narrow  bed 
arid  single  chair,  and  at  the  table  sat  the  rosy-gilled  friar,  filling 
his  glass  from  an  antiquated  bottle,  and  nodding  his  head  to  his 
visitor  in  grinning  welcome.  A  long  cloister  with  six  or  eight 
cells  extended  beyond,  and  in  each  was  a  monk  in  some  startling 
attitude,  or  a  pale  and  saintly  nun  employed  in  work  or  prayer. 
The  whole  was  as  like  a  living  monastery  as  wax  could  make  it. 
The  mingling  of  monks  and  nuns  seemed  an  anachronism,  but 
we  were  told  that  it  represented  a  tale,  the  title  of  which  I  have 
forgotten.  It  was  certainly  an  odd  as  well  as  an  expensive  fancy 
for  a  garden  ornament,  and  shows  by  its  uselessness  the  once 
princely  condition  of  the  possessors  of  the  palace.  An  English 
man  married  not  many  years  since  an  old  princess,  to  whom  the 
estates  had  descended,  and  with  much  unavailable  property  and 
the  title  of  prince,  he  has  entered  the  service  of  the  king  of  the 
Sicilies  for  a  support. 

We  drove  on  to    another   palace,   still   more   curious   in   its 


94  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


ornaments.  The  extensive  wall  which  enclosed  it,  the  gates, 
the  fountains  in  the  courts  and  gardens,  were  studded  with 
marble  monsters  of  every  conceivable  deformity.  The  head  of  a 
man  crowned  the  body  of  an  eagle  standing  on  the  legs  of  a 
horse  ;  the  lovely  face  and  bosom  of  a  female  crouched  upon  the 
body  of  a  dog  ;  alligators,  serpents,  lions,  monkeys,  birds,  and 
reptiles,  were  mixed  up  with  parts  of  the  human  body  in  the 
most  revolting  variety.  So  admirable  was  the  work,  too,  and  so 
beautiful  the  material,  that  even  outraged  taste  would  hesitate  to 
destroy  them.  The  wonder  is  that  artists  of  so  much  merit 
could  have  been  hired  to  commit  such  sins  against  decency,  or 
that  a  man  in  his  senses  would  waste  upon  them  the  fortune  they 
must  have  cost. 

We  mounted  a  massive  flight  of  steps,  with  a  balustrade  of 
gorgeously-carved  marble,  and  entered  a  hall  hung  round  with 
the  family  portraits,  the  eccentric  founder  at  tfreir  head.  He 
was  a  thin,  quizzical-looking  gentleman,  in  a  laced  coat  and 
sword,  and  had  precisely  the  face  I  imagined  for  him — that  of  a 
whimsical  madman.  You  would  select  it  from  a  thousand  as  the 
subject  for  a  lunatic  asylum. 

"We  were  led  next  .to  a  long  narrow  hall,  famous  for  having 
dined  the  king  and  his  courtiers  an  age  or  two  ago.  The  ceiling 
was  of  plate  mirror,  reflecting  us  all,  upside  down,  as  we  strolled 
through,  and  the  walls  were  studded  from  the  floor  to  the  roof 
with  the  quartz  diamond,  (valueless  but  brilliant),  bits  of  colored 
glass,  spangles,  and  every  thing  •  that  could  reflect  light.  The 
effect,  when  the  quaint  old  chandeliers  were  lit,  and  the  table 
spread  with  silver  and  surrounded  by  a  king  and  his  nobles,  in 
the  costume  of  a  court  in  the  olden  time,  must  have  exceeded 
faery. 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  95 

Beyond,  we  were  ushered  into  the  state  drawing-room,  a  saloon 
of  grand  proportions,  roofed   like   the  other  with  mirrors,    but 
paved  and  lined  throughout  with  the  costliest  marbles,  Sicilian 
agates,  paintings  set  in  the  wall  and  covered  with  glass,  while  on 
pedestals    around,    stood    statues    of    the    finest    workmanship, 
representing  the  males  of  the  family  in  the  costume  or  armor  of 
the  times.     A  table  of.  inlaid  precious  stones  stood  in  the  centre, 
cabinets    of    lapis-lazuli    and  side-tables,    occupied    the   spaces 
between  the  furniture,  and  the  chairs  and  sofas  were  covered  with 
the  rich   velvet   stuffs  now  out  of  use,  embroidered  and  fringed 
magnificently.     I  f-at  down  upon  a  tripod  stool,  and  with  my  eyes 
half  closed,  looked  up  at  the  mirrored  reflections  of  the  officers  in 
the  ceiling,  and  tried  to  imagine  back  the  gay  throngs  that  had 
moved  across  the   floor  they  were  treading  so  unceremoniously, 
the  knightly  and  royal  feet  that  had  probably  danced  the  stars 
down  with  the  best  beauty  of  Sicily  beneath  those  silent  mirrors ; 
the  joy,  the  jealousy,  the  love  and  hate,  that  had  lived  their  hour 
and  been  repeated,  as  were  our  lighter  feelings  and  faces  now, 
outlived  by  the  perishing  mirrors  that  might  still  outlive  ours  as 
long.     How  much    there  is   in  an   atmosphere!     How  full  the 
air  of  these  old  palaces  is  of  thought  !     How  one   might  enjoy 
them   could  he   ramble  here  alone,  or  with  one  congenial  and 
musing  companion  to  answer  to  his  moralizing. 

We  drove  on  to  our  appointment.  At  the  end  of  a  handsome 
avenue  stood  a  large  palace,  in  rather  more  modern  taste  than 
those  we  had  left.  The  crowd  of  carriages  in  the  court,  the 
gold-laced  midshipmen  scattered  about  the  massive  stairs  and 
in  the  formal  walks  of  the  gardens,  the  gay  dresses  of  the  ship's 
band,  playing  on  the  terrace,  and  the  troops  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  every  direction,  gave  an  air  of  bustle  to  the  stately 


96  SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 


structure  that  might  have  reminded  the  marble  nymphs  of  the 
days  when  they  were  first  lifted  to  their  pedestals. 

The  old  hall  was  thrown  open  at  two,  and  a  table  stretching 
from  one  end  to  the  other,  loaded  with  every  luxury  of  the 
season,  and  capable  of  accommodating  sixty  or  seventy  persons, 
usurped  the  place  of  unsubstantial  romance,  and  brought  in  the 
wildest  straggler  willingly  from  his  ramble.  No  cost  had  been 
spared,  and  the  hospitable  consul  (a  Bostonian)  did  the  honors 
of  his  table  in  a  manner  that  stirred  powerfully  my  pride  of 
country  and  birthplace.  All  the  English  resident  in  Palermo 
were  present;  and  it  was  the  more  agreeable  to  me  that  their 
countrymen  are  usually  the  only  givers  of  generous  entertainment 
in  Europe.  One  feels  ever  so  distant  a  reflection  on  his  country 
abroad.  The  liberal  and  elegant  hospitality  of  one  of  our 
countrymen  at  Florence,  has  served  me  as  a  better  argument 
against  the  charge  of  hardness  and  selfishness  urged  upon  our 
nation,  than  all  which  could  be  drawn  from  the  acknowledgments 
of  travellers. 

When  dinner  was  over,  an  hour  was  passed  at  coffee  in  a 
small  saloon  stained  after  the  fashion  of  Pompoii,  and  we  then 
assembled  on  a  broad  terrace  facing  the  sea,  and  with  the  band 
in  the  gallery  above,  commenced  dances  which  lasted  till  an  hour 
or  two  into  the  moonlight.  The  sunset  had  the  eternal  but 
untiring  glory  of  the  Italian  summer,  and  it  never  set  on  a  gayer 
party.  There  were  among  the  English  one  or  two  lovely  girls, 
and  with  the  four  ladies  belonging  to  the  squadron  (the  com 
modore's  family  and  Captain  Reed's),  the  dancers  were  sufficient 
to  include  all  the  officers,  and  the  scene  in  the  soft  light  of  the 
moon  was  like  a  description  in  an  old  tale.  The  broad  sea  on 
either  side,  broke  by  the  headland  in  front,  the  distant  crescent 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  97 


of  lights  glancing  along  the  seaside  at  Palermo,  the  solemn  old 
palaces  seen  from  the  eminence  around  us,  and  the  noble  pile 
through  whose  low  windows  we  strolled  out  upon  the  terrace, 
the  music  and  the  excitement,  all  blended  a  scene  that  is  drawn 
with  bright  and  living  lines  in  my  memory.  We  parted 
unwillingly,  and  reaching  Palermo  about  midnight,  pulled  off  to 
the  frigates,  and  were  under  way  at  daylight  for  Messina. 


This  is  the  poetry  of  sailing.  The  long,  low  frigate  glides  on 
through  the  water  with  no  more  motion  than  is  felt  in  a  dining- 
room  on  shore.  The  sea  changes  only  from  a  glossy  calm  to  a 
feathery  ripple,  the  sky  is  always  serene,  the  merchant  sail 
appears  and  dipapp^ars  on  the  horizon  edge,  the  island  rises  on 
the  bow,  creeps  nlong  the  quarter,  is  examined  by  the  glasses  of 
the  idlers  on  neck  and  sinks  gradually  astern,  the  sun-fi^h  whirls 
in  the  eddy  of  the  wake,  the  tortoise  plunges  and  breathes  about 
us,  and  the  delightful  temperature  of  the  sea,  even  and  invigora 
ting,  keeps  both  mind  and  body  in  an  undisturbed  equilibrium  of 
enjoyment.  For  me  it  is  a  paradise.  T  am  glad  to  escape  from 
the  contact,  the  dust,  the  trials  of  temper,  the  noon-day  sultri 
ness,  and  the  midnight  chill,  the  fatigue,  and  privation,  and 
vexation,  which  beset  the  traveller  on  shore.  I  shall  return  to  it 
no  doubt  willingly  after  a  while,  but  for  the  present,  it  is  rest,  it 
is  relief,  refreshment,  to  be  at  sea.  There  is  no  swell  in  the 
Mediterranean  during  the  summer  months,  and  this  gliding  about 
sleeping  or  reading,  as  if  at  home,  from  one  port  to  another, 
seems  to  me  just  now  the  Utopia  of  enjoyment. 

We  have  been  all  day  among  the  Lipari  islands.     It  is  pleas- 


9cS          SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


ant  to  look  up  at  the  shaded  and  peaceful  huts  on  their  moun 
tainous  sides,  as  we  creep  along  under  them,  or  to  watch  the  fish 
erman's  children  with  a  glass,  as  they  run  out  from  their  huts  on 
the  sea-shore  to  gaze  at  the  uncommon  apparition  of  a  ship-of- 
war.  They  seem  seats  of  solitude  and  retirement.  I  have  just 
dropped  the  glass,  which  I  had  raised  to  look  at  what  I  took  to 
be  a  large  ship  in  full  sail  rounding  the  point  of  Felicudi.  It  is 
a  tall,  pyramidal  rock,  rising  right  from  the  sea,  and  resembling 
exactly  a  ship  with  studding-sails  set,  coming  down  before  the 
wind.  The  band  is  playing  on  the  deck  ;  and  a  fisherman's  boat 
with  twenty  of  the  islanders  resting  on  their  oars  and  listening  in 
wondering  admiration,  lies  just  under  our  quarter.  It  will  form  a 
tale  for  the  evening  meal,  to  which  they  were  hastening  home. 


"We  run  between  Scylla  and  Charyldis,  with  a  fresh  wind  and 
a  strong  current.  The  "  dogs"  were  silent,  and  the  u  whirlpool" 
is  a  bubble  to  Hurl-gate.  Scylla  is  quite  a  town,  and  the  tall 
rock  at  the  entrance  of  the  strait  is  crowned  with  a  large  build 
ing,  which  seems  part  of  a  fortification.  The  passage  through 
the  Faro  is  lonely — quite  like  a  river.  Messina  lies  in  a  curve 
•  f  the  western  shore,  at  the  base  of  a  hill;  and,  opposite,  a 
....1-a.ceiul  slope  covered  with  vineyards,  swells  up  to  a  broad  table 
plain  on  the  mountain,  which  looked  like  the  home  of  peace  and 
fertility. 

We  rounded  to,  off  the  town,  to  send  in  for  letters,  and  I  went 
ashore  in  the  boat.  Two  American  friends,  whom  I  had  as  little 
expectation  of  meeting  as  if  I  had  dropped  upon  Jerusalem, 
hailed  me  from  the  grating  of  the  health-office,  before  we  reached 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  99 

the  land,  and  having  exhibited  our  bill  of  health,  I  had  half  an 
hour  for  a  call  upon  an  old  friend,  resident  at  Messina,  and  we 
were  off  again  to  the  ship.  The  sails  filled,  and  we  shot  away  on 
a  strong  breeze  down  the  straits.  Rhegium  lay  on  our  left,  a 
large  cluster  of  old-looking  houses  on  the  edge  of  the  sea.  It 
was  at  this  town  of  Calabria  that  St.  Paul  landed  on  his  journey 
to  Rome.  We  sped  on  without  much  time  to  look  at  it,  even  with 
a  glass,  and  were  soon  rounding  the  toe  of  "  the  boot,"  the 
southern  point  of  Italy.  We  are  heading  at  this  moment  for 
the  gulf  of  Tarento,  and  hope  to  be  in  Venice  by  the  fourth  of 
July. 


LETTER  X, 

The  Adriatic— Albania— Gay  Costumes  ana  Beauty  of  the  Albanesc— Capo  d'lstna-- 
Trieste  resembles  an  American  Town— Visit  to  the  Austrian  Authorities  of  the  Province 
—Curiosity  of  the  Inhabitants— Gentlemanly  deception  by  the  Military  Commamhiut— 
Visit  to  Vienna— Singular  Notions  of  the  Austrians  respecting  the  Americans— Similari 
ty  of  the  Scenery  to  that  of  New  England-Meeting  with  German  Students-Frequent 
Sight  of  Soldiers  and  Military  Preparation— Picturesque  Scenery  of  Styria. 

THE  Doge  of  Venice  has  a  fair  bride  in  the  Adriatic.  It  is  the 
fourth  of  July,  and  with  the  Italian  Cape  Colonna  on  our  left, 
and  the  long,  low  coast  of  Albania  shading  the  horizon  on  the 
east,  we  are  gazing  upon  her  from  the  deck  of  the  first  Amer 
ican  frigate  that  has  floated  upon  her  bosom.  We  head  for 
Venice,  and  there  is  a  stir  of  anticipation  on  board,  felt  even 
through  the  hilarity  of  our  cherished  anniversary.  I  am  the  only 
one  in  the  ward-room  to  whom  that  wonderful  city  is  familiar, 
and  I  feel  as  if  I  had  forestalled  my  own  happiness — the  first 
impression  of  it  is  so  enviable. 


It  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  gay  costumes  and  handsome 
features  of  the  Albanese,  existing  in  these  barren  mountains  that 
bind  the  Adriatic.  It  has  been  but  a  continued  undulation  of 
rock  and  sand,  for  three  days  past ;  and  the  closer  we  hug  to  the 


SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


shore,  the  more  we  look  at  the  broad  canvass  above  us,  and  pray 
for  wind.  We  make  Capo  cl'Istjia  now,  a  small  town  nestled  in 
a  curve  of  the  sea,  and  an  hour  or  two  more  will  bring  us  to 
Trieste,  ^bere  we  drop  anchor,  we  hope,  for  many  an  hour  of 
novelty  and  pleasure. 


Trieste  lies  sixty  or  eighty  miles  from  Venice,  across  the  head 
of  the  gulf.  The  shore  between  is  piled  up  to  the  sky  with  the 
"blue  Fiiuli  mountains  ;"  and  from  the  town  of  Trieste,  the 
low  coast  of  Istria  breaks  away  at  a  right  angle  to  the  south, 
forming  the  easlfii  b<''va.d  of  the  Adriatic.  As  we  ran  into  the 
harbor  on  our  last  tack,  we  passed  close  under  the  garden  walls 
of  the  villa  of  the  ex-queen  of  Naples,  a  lovely  spot  just  in  the 
suburbs.  The  palace  of  Jerome  Bonaparte  was  also  pointed  out 
to  us  by  the  pilot  on  the  hill  just  above.  They  have  both 
removed  since  to  Florence,  and  their  palaces  are  occupied  by 
English.  We  dropped  anchor  within  a  half  mile  of  the  pier, 
and  the  flags  of  a  dozen  American  vessels  were  soon  distinguish 
able  among  the  various  colors  of  the  shipping  in  the  port. 


I  accompanied  Commodore  Patterson  to-day  on  a  visit  of  cere 
mony  to  the  Austrian  authorities  of  the  province.  We  made 
our  way  with  difficulty  through  the  people,  crowding  in  hundreds 
to  the  water-side,  and  following  us  with  the  rude  freedom  of  a 
showman's  audience.  The  vice-governor,  a  polite  but  Frenchified 
German  count,  received  us  with  eveiy  profession  of  kindness. 
His  Parisian  gestures  sat  ill  enough  upon  his  national  high  cheek 


102        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    TiJE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

bones,  lank  hair,  and  heavy  shoulders.  We  left  him  to  call  upon 
the  military  commandant,  an  Irishman,  who  occupies  part  of  the 
palace  of  the  ex-king  of  Westphalia.  Our  reception  by  him  was 
gentlemanly,  cordial,  and  dignified.  I  think  the  Irish  are,  after 
all,  the  best-mannered  people  in  the  world.  They  are  found  in 
every  country,  as  adventurers  for  honor,  and  they  change  neither 
in  character  nor  manner.  They  follow  foreign  fashions,  aiid 
acquire  a  foreign  language  ;  but  in  the  first  they  retain  their 
heart,  and  in  the  latter  their  brogue.  They  are  Irishmen  always. 
Count  Nugent  is  high  in  the  favor  of  the  emperor,  has  the  com 
mission  of  a  field  marshal,  and  is  married  to  a  Neapolitan 
princess,  who  is  a  most  accomplished  and  lovely  woman,  and 
related  to  most  of  the  royal  houses  of  Europe.  His  reputation 
as  a  soldier  is  well-known,  and  he  seems  to  me  to  have  no  draw 
back  to  the  enviableness  of  his  life,  except  its  expatriation. 

Trieste  is  a  busy,  populous  place,  resembling  extremely  our 
new  towns  in  America.  We  took  a  stroll  through  the  principal 
streets  after  our  visits  were  over,  and  I  was  surprised  at  the 
splendor  of  the  shops,  and  the  elegance  of  the  costumes  and 
equipages.  It  is  said  to  contain  thirty  thousand  inhabitants. 


VIENNA. — The  frigates  were  to  lie  three  or  four  weeks  at 
Trieste.  One  half  of  the  officers  had  taken  the  steamboat  for 
Venice  on  the  second  evening  of  our  arrival,  and  the  other  half 
waited  impatiently  their  turn  of  absence.  Vienna  was  but  some 
four  hundred  miles  distant,  and  I  might  never  be  so  near  it  again. 
On  a  rainy  evening,  at  nine  o'clock,  I  left  Trieste  in  the  "  eil- 
wagon,"*"*  with  a  Grerrnan  courier,  and  commenced  the  ascent  of 
the  spur  of  the  Friuli  mountains  that  overhangs  the  bay. 


ON    BOARD   AN   AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  103 


My  companions  inside  were,  a  merchant  from  Gratz,  a  fantas 
tical  and  poor  Hungarian  count,  a  Corfu  shop-keeper,  and  an 
Italian  ex-militaire  and  present  apothecary,  going  to  Vienna  to 
marry  a  lady  whom  he  had  never  seen.  After  a  little  bandying 
of  compliments  in  German,  of  which  I  understood  nothing 
except  that  they  were  apologies  for  the  incessant  smoking  of 
three  disgusting  pipes,  the  conversation,  fortunately  for  me, 
settled  into  Italian.  The  mountain  was  steep  and  very  high,  and 
my  friends  soon  grew  conversable.  The  novelty  of  two  American 
frigates  in  the  harbor  naturally  decided  the  first  topic.  Our 
Gratz  merchant  was  surprised  at  the  light  color  of  the  officers  he 
had  seen,  and  doubted  if  they  were  not  Englishmen  in  the 
American  service.  He  had  always  heard  Americans  were 
black.  "  They  are  so,"  said  the  soldier-apothecary  ;  "  I  saw  the 
real  Americans  yesterday  in  a  boat,  quite  black."  (One  of  the 
cutters  of  the  Constellation  has  a  negro  crew,  which  he  had 
probably  seen  at  the  pier.)  The  assertion  seemed  to  satisfy  the 
doubts  of  all  parties.  They  had  wondered  how  such  beautiful 
ships  could  come  from  a  savage  country.  It  was  now  explained. 
"  They  were  bought  from  the  English,  and  officered  by  English 
men."  I  was  too  much  amused  with  their  speculations  to  unde 
ceive  them  ;  and  with  my  head  thrust  half  out  of  the  window  to 
avoid  choking  with  the  smoke  of  their  pipes,  I  gazed  back  at  the 
glittering  lights  of  the  town  below,  and  indulged  the  never-pall 
ing  sensation  of  a  first  entrance  into  a  new  country.  The 
lantern  at  the  peak  of  the  "  United  States"  was  the  last  thing  I 
saw  as  we  rose  the  brow  of  the  mountain,  and  started  off  on  a 
rapid  trot  toward  Vienna. 

I  awoke  at  daylight  with  the  sudden  stop  of  the  carriage.  We 
were  at  the  low  door  of  a  German  tavern,  and  a  clear,  rosy, 


104        SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

good-humored  looking  girl  bade  us  good  morning,  as  we  alighted 
one  by  one.  The  phrase  was  so  like  English,  that  I  asked  for  a 
basin  of  water  in  my  mother  tongue.  The  similarity  served  me 
again.  She  brought  it  without  hesitation  ;  but  the  question  she 
asked  me  as  she  set  it  down  was  like  nothing  that  had  ever  before 
entered  my  ears.  The  count  smiled  at  my  embarrassment,  and 
explained  that  she  wished  to  know  if  I  wanted  soap. 

I  was  struck  with  the  cleanliness  of  everything.  The  tables, 
chairs  and  floors,  looked  worn  away  with  scrubbing.  Breakfast 
was  brought  in  immediately,  eggs,  rolls,  and  coffee,  the  latter  in 
a  glass  bottle  like  a  chemist's  retort,  corked  up  tightly,  and 
wrapped  in  a  snowy  napkin.  It  was  an  excellent  breakfast, 
served  with  cleanliness  and  good  humor,  and  cost  about  fourteen 
cents  each.  Even  from  this  single  meal,  it  seemed  to  me  that- 1 
had  entered  a  country  of  simple  manners  and  kind  feelings. 
The  conductor  gravely  kissed  the  cheek  of  the  girl  who  had 
waited  on  us,  my  companions  lit  their  pipes  afresh,  and  the 
postillion,  iu  cocked  hat  and  feather,  blew  a  stave  of  a  waltz  on 
his  horn,  and  fell  into  a  steady  trot,  which  he  kept  up  with 
phlegmatic  perseverance  to  the  end  of  his  post. 


As  we  get  away  from  the  sea,  the  land  grows  richer,  and  the 
farm-houses  more  frequent.  We  are  in  the  dutchy  of  Carniola, 
forty  or  fifty  miles  from  Trieste.  How  very  unlike  Italy  and 
France,  and  how  very  like  New  England  it  is  !  There  are  no 
ruined  castles,  nor  old  cathedrals.  Every  village  has  its  small 
white  church  with  a  tapering  spire,  large  manufactories  cl aster  on 
the  water-courses,  the  small  rivers  are  rapid  and  deep,  the 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  1Q5 


horses  large  and  strong,  the  barns  immense,  the  crops  heavy,  the 
people  grave  and  hard  at  work,  and  not  a  pauper  by  the  post 
together.  We  are  very  far  north,  too,  and  the  climate  is  like 
New  England.  The  wind,  though  it  is  midsummer,  is  bracing, 
and  there  is  no  travelling  as  in  Italy,  with  one's  hat  off  and 
breast  open,  dissolving  at  midnight  in  the  luxury  of  the  soft  air. 
The  houses,  too,  are  ugly  and  comfortable,  staring  with  paint  and 
pierced  in  all  directions  with  windows.  The  children  are  white- 
headed  and  serious.  The  hills  are  half-covered  with  woods,  and 
clusters  of  elms  are  left  here  and  there  through  the  meadows,  as 
if  their  owners  could  afford  to  let  them  grow  for  a  shade  to  the 
mowers.  I  was  perpetually  exclaiming,  "  how  like  America !" 

We  dined  at  Laybach.  My  companions  had  found  out  by  my 
passport  that  I  was  an  American,  arid  their  curiosity  was  most 
amusing.  The  report  of  the  arrival  of  the  two  frigates  had 
reached  the  capital  of  Illyria,  and  with  the  assistance  of  the 
information  of  my  friends,  I  found  myself  an  object  of  universal 
attention.  The  crowd  around  the  door  of  the  hotel,  looked  into 
the  windows  while  we  were  eating,  and  followed  me  round  the 
house  as  if  I  had  been  a  savage.  One  of  the  passengers  told  me 
they  connected  the  arrival  of  the  ships  with  some  political  object, 
and  thought  I  might  be  the  envoy  The  landlord  asked  me  if  we 
had  potatoes  in  our  country. 

I  took  a  walk  through  the  city  after  dinner  with  my  mincing 
friend  the  count.  The  low,  two-story  wooden  houses,  the  side 
walks  enclosed  with  trees,  the  matter-of-fact  looking  people,  the 
shut  windows,  and  neat  white  churches  remind  me  again  strongly 
of  America.  It  was  like  the  more  retired  streets  of  Portland  or 
Portsmouth.  The  lllyrian  language  spoken  here,  seemed  to  me 
the  most  inarticulate  succession  of  sounds  I  had  ever  heard.  In 


106         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

crossing  the  bridge  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  we  met  a  party  of 
German  students  travelling  on  foot  with  their  knapsacks.  My 
friend  spoke  to  them  to  gratify  my  curiosity.  I  wished  to  know 
where  they  were  going.  They  all  spoke  French  and  Italian,  and 
seemed  in  high  heart,  bold,  cheerful,  and  intelligent.  They 
were  bound  for  Egypt,  determined  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  the 
service  of  the  present  reforming  and  liberal  pacha.  Their  enthu 
siasm,  when  they  were  told  I  was  an  American,  quite  thrilled 
me.  They  closed  about  me  and  looked  into  my  eyes,  as  if  they 
expected  to  read  the  spirit  of  freedom  in  them.  I  was  taken  by 
the  arms  at  last,  and  almost  forced  into  a  beer-shop.  The  large 
tankards  were  filled,  each  touched  mine  and  the  others,  and 
"  America"  was  drank  with  a  grave  earnestness  of  manner  that 
moved  my  heart  within  me.  They  shook  me  by  the  band  on 
parting,  and  gave  me  a  blessing  in  German,  which  as  the  old 
count  translated  it,  was  the  first  word  I  have  learned  of  their 
language.  We  had  met  constantly  parties  of  them  on  the  road. 
They  all  dress  alike,  in  long  travelling  frocks  of  brown  stuff,  and 
small  green  caps  with  straight  visors  ;  but,  coarsely  as  they  are 
clothed,  and  humbly  as  they  seem  to  be  faring,  their  faces  bear 
always  a  mark  that  can  never  be  mistaken.  They  look  like 
scholars.  ' 

The  roads,  by  the  way,  are  crowded  with  pedestrians.  It 
seems  to  be  the  favorite  mode  of  travelling  in  this  country.  T7e 
have  scarce  met  a  carriage,  and  I  have  seen,  I  am  sure,  in  one 
day,  two  hundred  passengers  on  foot.  Among  them  is  a  class  of 
people  peculiar  to  Germany.  1^  was  astonished  occasionally  at 
being  asked  for  charity  by  stout,  well-dressed  young  men,  to  all 
appearance  as  respectable  as  any  travellers  on  the  road. 
Expressing  my  surprise,  my  companion  informed  me  that  they 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  107 


\Fere  apprentices,  and  that  .the  custom  or  law  of  the  country 
compelled  them,  after  completing  their  indentures,  to  travel  in 
some  distant  province,  and  depend  upon  charity  and  their  own 
exertions  for  two  or  three  years  before  becoming  masters  at  their 
trade.  It  is  a  singular  custom,  and,  I  should  think,  a  useful 
lesson  in  hardship  and  self-reliance.  They  held  out  their  .hats 
with  a  confident  independence  of  look  that  quite  satisfied  me  they 
felt  no  degradation  in  it. 

We  soon  entered  the  province  of  Stifria^  and  brighter  rivers, 
greener  woods,  richer  and  more  graceful  uplands  and  meadows, 
do  not  exist  in  the  world.  I  had  thought  the  scenery  of 
Stockbi-idge,  in  my  own  state,  unequalled  till  now.  I  could 
believe  myself  there,  ware -not  the  women  alone  working  in  the 
fields,  and  the  roads  lined  for  miles  together  with  military  wagons 
and  cavalry  upon  march.  The  conscript  law  of  Austria  compels 
every  peasant  to  serve  fourteen  years  !  and  the  labors  of 
agriculture  fall,  of  course,  almost  exclusively  upon  females. 
Soldiers  swarm  like  locusts  through  the  country,  but  they  seem 
as  inoffensive  and  as  much  at  home  as  the  cattle  in  the  farm 
yards.  It  is  a  curious  contrast,  to  my  eye,  to  see  parks  of 
artillery  glistening  in  tho  midst  of  a  wheat-field,  and  soldiers 
sitting  about  under  the  low  thatches  01  these  peaceful-looking 
cottages.  I  do  not  think,  among  the  thousands  that  I  have 
passed  in  three  days'  travel,  I  have  seen  a  gesture  or  heard  a 
syllable.  If  sitting,  they  smoke  and  sit  still,  and  if  travelling, 
they  economise  motion  to  a  degree  that  is  wearisome  to  the  eve. 

Words  are  limited,  and  the  description  of  scenery  becomes 
tiresome.  It  is  a  fault  that  the  sense  of  beauty,  freshening 
constantly  on  the  traveller,  compels  him  who  makes  a  note  of 
impressions  to  mark  every  other  line  with  the  same  ever-recurring 


108        SUMMER   CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


exclamations  of  pleasure.  I  saw  a  hundred  miles  of  unrivalled 
scenery  in  Styria,  and  how  can  I  describe  it  ?  I  were  keeping 
silence  on  a  world  of  enjoyment  to  pass  it  over.  We  come  to  a 
charming  descent  into  a  valley.  The  town  beneath,  the  river, 
the  embracing  mountains,  the  swell  to  the  car  of  its  bells  ringing 
some  holyday,  affect  my  imagination  powerfully.  I  take  out  my 
tablets.  What  shall  I  say  ?  How  convey  to  your  minds  who 
have  not  seen  it,  the  charm  of  a  scene  I  can  only  describe  as  I 
have  described  a  thousand  others  ? 


LETTER   XI, 

Gratz— Vienna. 

WE  had  followed  stream  after  stream  through  a  succession  of 
delicious  valleys  for  a  hundred  miles.  Descending  from  a  slight 
eminence,  we  came  upon  the  broad  and  rapid  ]\Iuhr,  and  soon 
after  caught  sight  of  a  distant  citadel  upon  a  rock.  As  we 
approached,  it  struck  me  as  one  of  the  most  singular  freaks  of 
nature  I  had  ever  seen.  A  pyramid,  perhaps  three  hundred  feet 
in  height,  and  precipitous  on  every  side,  rose  abruptly  in  the 
midst  of  a  broad  and  level  plain,  and  around  it  in  a  girdle  of 
architecture,  lay  the  capital  of  Styria.  The  fortress  on  the 
summit  hung  like  an  eagle's  nest  over  the  town,  and  from  its 
towers,  a  pistol-shot  would  reach  the  outermost  point  of  the 
wall. 

Wearied  with  travelling  near  three  hundred  miles  without 
sleep,  I  dropped  upon  a  bed  at  the  hotel,  with  an  order  to  be 
called  in  two  hours.  It  was  noon,  and  we  were  to  remain  at 
Gratz  till  the  next  morning.  My  friend,  the  Hungarian,  had 
promised  as  he  threw  himself  on  the  opposite  bed,  to  wake  and 
accompany  me  in  a  walk  through  the  town,  but  the  shake  of  a 
stout  German  chambermaid  at  the  appointed  time  had  no  effect 
upon  him,  and  I  deiscended  to  my  dinner  alone.  I  had  lost  my 


110  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


interpreter.  The  carte  was  in  German,  of  winch  I  did  not  know 
even  the  letters.  After  appealing  in  vain  in  French  and  Italian 
to  the  persons  eating  near  me,  I  fixed  my  finger  at  hazard  upon  a 
word,  and  the  waiter  disappeared.  The  result  was  a  huge  dish 
of  cabbage  cooked  in  some  filthy  oil  and  graced  with  a,  piece  of 
beef.  I  was  hesitating  whether  to  dine  on  bread  or  make  another 
attempt,  when  a  gentlemanly  man  of  some  fifty  years  came  in 
and  took  the  vacant  seat  at  my -table,  lie  addressed  me  imme 
diately  in  French,  and  smiling  at  my  difficulties,  undertook  to 
order  a  dinner  for  me  something  less  national.  We  improved 
our  acquaintance  with  a  bottle  of  Johannesburg!*,  and  after 
dinner  he  kindly  offered  to  accompany  me  in  my  walk  through  the 
city. 

Gratz  is  about  the  size  of  Boston,  a  plain  German  city,  with 
little  or  no  pretensions  to  style.  The  military  band  was  playing  a 
difficult  waltz  very  beautifully  in  the  public  square,  but  no  one 
was  listening  except  a  group  of  young  men  dressed  in  the  worst 
taste  of  dandyism.  We  mounted  by  a  zig-zag  pmh  to  the 
fortress.  On  a  shelf  of  the  precipice,  half  way  up,  hangs  a 
small  casino,  used  as  a  beer-shop.  The  view  from  the  summit 
was  a  feast  to  the  eye.  The  wide  and  lengthening  valley  of  the 
Muhr  lay  asleep  beneath  its  loads  of  grain,  its  villas  and  farm 
houses,  the  picture  of  "  waste  and  mellow  fruitfulness,"  the  rise 
to  the  mountains  around  the  head  of  the  valley  was  clustered 
with  princely  dwellings,  thick  forests  with  glades  between  them, 
and  churches  with  white  slender  spires  shooting  from  the  bosom 
of  elms,  and  right  at  our  feet,  circling  around  the  precipitous 
rock  for  protection,  lay  the  city  enfolded  in  its  rampart,  and 
sending  up  to  our  ears  the  sound  of  every  wheel  that  rolled 
through  her  streets.  Among  the  striking  buildings  below,  my 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE. 


friend  pointed  out  to  me  a  palace  which  he  said  had  been  lately 
purchased  by  Joseph  Bonaparte,  who  was  coming  here  to  reside. 
The  people  were  beginning  to  turn  out  for  their  evening  walk 
upon  the  ramparts  which  are  planted  with  trees  and  laid  out  for 
a  promenade,  and  we  descended  to  mingle  in  the  crowd. 

My  old  friend  had  a  great  many  acquaintances.  He  presented 
me  to  several  of  the  best-dressed  people  we  met,  all  of  whom 
invited  me  to  supper.  I  had  been  in  Italy  almost  a  year  and  a 
half,  and  such  a  thing  had  never  happened  to  me.  We  walked 
about  until  six,  and  as  I  preferred  going  to  the  play,  which 
opened  at  that  early  hour,  we  took  tickets  for  "  Der  Schlimme 
Leisel,"  and  were  seated  presently  in  one  of  the  simplest  and 
prettiest  theatres  t  have  ever  seen. 

Der  Schlimme  Leiscl  was  an  old  maid  who  kept  house  for  an 
old  bachelor  brother,  proposing,  at  the  time  the  play  opens,  to 
marry.  Her  dislike  to  the  match,  from  the  dread  of  losing  her 
authority  over  his  household,  formed  the  humor  of  the  piece,  and 
was  admirably  represented.  After  various  unsuccessful  attempts 
to  prevent  the  nuptials,  the  lady  is  brought  to  the  house,  and  the 
old  maid  enters  in  a  towering  passion,  throws  down  her  keys,  and 
flirts  out  of  the  room  with  a  threat  that  she  "  will  go  to 
America  /"  Fortunately  she  is  not  driven  to  that  extremity. 
The  lady  has  been  already  married  secretly  to  a  poorer  lover,  aud 
the  old  bachelor,  after  the  first  shock  of  the  discovery,  settles  a 
fortune  on  them,  and  returns  to  his  celibacy  and  his  old  maid 
sister,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties.  Certainly  the  German  is 
the  most  unmusical  language  of  Babel.  If  my  good  old  friend 
had  not  translated  it  for  ine  word  for  word,  I  should  scarce  have 
believed  the  play  to  be  more  than  a  gibbering  pantomime.  I 
shall  think  differently  when  I  have  learned  it,  no  doubt,  but  a 


112        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 


strange  language  strikes  upon  one's  ear  so  oddly  !  I  was  quite 
too  tired  when  the  play  was  over  (which,  by  the  way,  was  at  the 
sober  hour  of  nine),  to  accept  any  of  the  kind  invitations  of 
which  my  companion  reminded  me.  We  supped  tete-d-tctc, 
instead,  at  the  hotel.  I  was  delighted  with  my  new  acquaintance. 
He  was  an  old  citizen  of  the  world.  He  had  left  Gratz  at 
twenty,  and  after  thirty  years  wandering  from  one  part  of  the 
globe  to  the  other,  had  returned  to  end  his  days  in  his  birth 
place.  His  relations  were  all  dead,  and  speaking  all  the 
languages  of  Europe,  he  preferred  living  at  a  hotel  for  the 
society  of  strangers.  With  a  groat  deal  of  wisdom,  he  had 
preserved  his  good  humor  toward  the  world  ;  and  I  think  I  have 
rarely  seen  a  kinder  and  never  a  happier  man.  I  parted  from 
him  with  regret,  and  the  next  morning  at  daylight,  had  resumed 
my  seat  at  the  Eil-wagon. 

Imagine  the  Hudson,  at  the  highlands,  reduced  to  a  sparkling 
little  river  a  bowshot  across,  and  a  rich  valley  thridded  by  a  ro  id 
accompanying  the  remaining  space  between  the  mountains,  and 
you  have  the  scenery  for  the  first  thirty  miles  beyond  Giatz. 
'There  is  one  more  difference.  On  the  edge  of  one  of  the  most 
toweiing  precipices,  clear  up  against  the  clouds,  hang  the  ruins 
of  a  noble  castle.  The  rents  in  the  wall,  and  the  embrasures  in 
the  projecting  turrets,  seem  set  into  the  sky.  Trees  and  vines 
grow  within  and  about  it,  and  the  lacings  of  the  twisted  roots 
seem  all  that  keep  it  together.  It  is  a  perfect  "  castle  in 
the  air." 

A  long  day's  journey  and  another  long  nii:ht  (during  which 
we  passed  Neustadt,  on  the  confines  of  Hungary)  brought  us 
within  sight  of  Baden,  but  an  hour  or  two  from  Vienna.  It  was 
just  sunrise,  and  market-carts  and  pedestrians  and  suburban 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  113 


vehicles  of  all  descriptions  notified  us  of  our  approach  to  a  great 
capital.  A  few  miles  farther  we  were  stopped  in  the  midst  of  an 
extensive  plain  by  a  crowd  of  carnages.  A  criminal  was  about 
being  guillotined.  What  was  that  to  one  who  saw  Vienna  for  the 
first  time  ?  A  few  steps  farther  the  postillion  was  suddenly 
stopped.  A  gentleman  alighted  from  a  carriage  in  which  were 
two  ladies,  and  opened  the  door  of  the  diligence.  It  was  the 
bride  of  the  soldier-apothecary  come  to  meet  him  with  her 
mother  and  brother.  He  was  buried  in  dust,  just  waked  out  of 
sleep,  a  three  days'  beard  upon  his  face,  and,  at  the  best,  not  a 
very  lover-like  person.  He  ran  to  the  carriage  door,  jumped  in, 
and  there  was  an  immediate  cry  for  water.  The  bride  had 
fainted  !  We  left  her  in  his  arms  and  drove 'on.  The  courier 
had  no  bowels  for  love. 

There  is  a  small  Gothic  pillar  before  us,  on  the  rise  of  a 
slight  elevation.  Thence  we  shall  see  Vienna.  "  Stop,  thou 
tasteless  postillion  !"  Was  ever  such  a  scene  revealed  to  mortal 
sight  !  It  is  like  Paris  from  the  Barriere  de  VEtoile — it  seems 
to  cover  the  world.  Oh,  beautiful  Vienna  !  What  is  that  broad 
water  on  which  the  rising  sun  glances  so  brightly  ?  u  The, 
Danube  /"  What  is  that  unparalleled  Gothic  structure  piercing 
the  sky  ?  What  columns  are  these  ?  What  spires  ?  Beautiful, 
beautiful  city  ! 


VIENNA. — It  must  be  a  fine  city  that  impresses  one  witli  its 
splendor  before  breakfast,  after  driving  all  night  in  a  mail- 
coach.  It  was  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  I  left  the  post- 
office,  in  Vienna,  to  walk  to  a  hotel.  The  shops  were  still  shut, 
the  milkwomen  were  beating  at  the  gates,  and  the  short,  quick 


114        SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 

ring  upon  the  church  bells  summoned  all  early  risers  to  mass. 
A  sudden  turn  brought  me  upon  a  square.  In  its  centre  stood 
the  most  beautiful  fabric  that  has  ever  yet  filled  my  eye.  It 
looked  like  the  structure  of  a  giant,  encrusted  with  fairies — a 
majestically  proportioned  mass,  and  a  spire  tapering  to  the 
clouds,  but  a  surface  so  curiously  beautiful,  so  traced  arid  fretted, 
so  full  of  exquisite  ornament,  that  it  seemed  rather  some  curious 
cabinet  gem,  seen  through  a  magnifier,  than  a  building  in  the 
open  air.  In  these  foreign  countries,  the  laborer  goes  in  with  his 
load  to  pray,  and  I  did  not  hesitate  to  enter  the  splendid  church 
of  St.  Etienne,  though  a  man  followed  me  with  a  portmanteau  on 
*  his  back.  What  a  wilderness  of  arches  !  Pulpits,  chapels, 
altars,  ciboriums;  confessionals,  choirs,  all  in  the  exquisite 
slenderness  of  Gothic  tracery,  and  all  of  one  venerable  and 
timeworn  die,  as  if  the  incense  of  a  myriad  censers  had  steeped 
them  in  their  spicy  odors.  The  mass  was  chanting,  and 
hundreds  were  on  their  knees  about  me,  and  not  one  without 
some  trace  that  he  had  come  in  on  his  way  to  his  daily  toil.  It 
was  the  hour  of  the  poor  man's  prayer.  The  rich  were  asleep 
in  their  beds.  The  glorious  roof  over  their  heads,  the  costly  and 
elaborated  pillars  against  which  they  pressed  their  foreheads,  the 
music  and  the  priestly  service,  were,  for  that  hour,  theirs  alone. 
I  seldom  have  felt  the  spirit  of  a  place  of  worship  so  strong 
upon  me. 

The  foundations  of  St.  Etienne  were  laid  seven  hundred  years 
a^o.  It  has  twice  been  partly  burnt,  and  has  been  embellished 
in  succession  by  nearly  all  the  emperors  of  Germany.  Among 
its  many  costly  tombs,  the  most  interesting  is  that  of  the  hero 
Eugene  of  Savoy,  erected  by  his  niece,  the  Princess  Therese,  of 
Liechtenstein.  There  is  also  a  vault  in  which  it  is  said,  in 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE. 


compliance  with  an  old  custom,  the  entrails  of  all  the  emperors 
are  deposited. 

Having  marked  thus  much  upon  my  tablets,  I  remembered  the 
patient  porter  of  my  baggage,  who  had  taken  the  opportunity  to 
drop  on  his  knees  while  I  was  gazing  about,  and  having  achieved 
his  matins,  was  now  waiting  submissively  till  I  was  ready  to 
proceed.  A  turn  or  two  brought  us  to  the  hotel,  where  a  bath 
and  a  breakfast  soon  restored  me,  and  in  an  hour  I  was  again  on 
the  way  with  a  valet  de  place,  to  visit  the  tomb  of  the  son  of 
Napoleon. 

lie  lies  in  the  deep  vaults  of  the  capuchin  convent,  with 
eighty -four  of  the  imperial  family  of  Austria  beside  him.  A 
monk  answered  our  pull  at  the  cloister-hell,  and  the  valet 
translated  my  request  into  German.  lie  opened  the  gate  with  a 
guttural  '•  Yaw  !"  and  lighting  a  wax  candle  at.  a  lamp  burning 
before  (he  imaop  of  thn  Virgin,  unlocked  a  massive  brazen  door 
at  the  end  <-f  the  corridor,  :.md  h-d  the  way  into  the  vault,  The 
capuchin  was  as  pale  as  marble,  quite  bald,  though  young,  and 
with  features  which  expressed,  i  thought,  the  subdued  liercem  ss 
of  a  devil.  He  impatiently  waved  away  the  officious  interpreter 
aft  en  a  moment  or  two,  and  asked  me  if  I  understood  _Latin. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  striking  than  the  whole  scene. 
The  immense  bronze  sarcophagi,  lay  in  long  isles  behind  railings 
and  gates  of  iron,  and  as  the  long-robed  monk  strode  on  with 
his  lamp  through  the  darkness,  pronouncing  the  name  and  title 
of  each  as  he  unlocked  the  door  and  struck  it  with  his  heavy  b-y, 
he  seemed  to  me,  \viih  his  solemn  pronunciation,  like  some 
mysterious  being  calling  forth  the  imperial  tenants  to  judgment, 
lie  appeared  to  have  something  of  scorn  in  his  manner  MS  he 
|sK>ki  :!  oil  'I'.'?  splecidid  workmanship  of  the  vast  coffiu  and 


116        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 

pronounced  the  sounding  titles  of  the  ashes  within.  At  that  of 
the  celebrated  Empress  Maria  Theresa  alone,  he  stopped  to 
make  a  comment.  It  was  a  simple  tribute  to  her  virtues,  and  ho 
uttered  it  slowly,  as  if  he  were  merely  musing  to  himself.  He 
passed  on  to  her  husband,  Francis  the  first,  and  then  proceeded 
uninterruptedly  till  he  came  to  a  new  copper  coffin.  It  lay  in  a 
niche,  beneath  a  tall,  dim  window,  and  the  monk,  merely  pointing 
to  the  inscription,  set  down  his  lamp,  and  began  to  pace  up  and 
down  the  damp  floor,  with  his  head  on  his  breast,  as  if  it  was  a 
matter  of  course  that  here  I  was  to  be  left  awhile  to  my 
thoughts. 

It  was  certainly  the  spot,  if  there  is  one  in  the  world,  to  feel 
emotion.  In  the  narrow  enclosure  on  which  my  finger  rested, 
lay  the  last  hopes  of  Napoleon.  The  heart  of  the  master-spirit 
of  the  world  was  bound  up  in  these  ashes.  He  was  beautiful, 
acjc«>nipli.-!i«-d,  m-nerous.  brave.  He  was  loved  with  a  sort  of 
idolatry  by  Uio  nati-.sri  with  which  he  had  passed  his  childhood. 
II u  had  won  all  hearts.  His  death  seemed  impossible.  There 
was  a  universal  prayer  that  he  might  live,  his  inheritance  of 
glory  was  so  incalculable. 

I  road  his  epitaph.  It  was  that  of  a  private  individual.  It 
gave  his  name,  and  his  father's  and  mother's  ;  and  then  enumer 
ated  his  virtues,,  with  a  commonplace  regret  for  his  early  death. 
The  monk  took  up  his  lamp  and  reascended  to  the  cloister  in 
silence.  He  shut  the  convent-door  behind  me,  and  the  busy 
street  seemed  to  me  profane.  How  short  a  time  does  the  most 
moving  event  interrupt  the  common  current  of  life. 


LETTER  XII. 

Vienna— Magnificence  of  the  Emperor's  Manage— The  Young  Queen  of  Hungary— The 
Palace— Hall  of  Curiosities.  Jewelry,  etc.— Tho  Polytechnic  School— Geometrical 
Figures  described  by  the  Vibrations  of  Musical  Notes— Liberal  Provision  for  the  Public 
Institutions— Popularity  of  t  e  Emperor. 

I  HAD  quite  forgotten,  in  packing  up  my  little  portmanteau  to 
leave  the  ship,  that  I  was  coming  so  far  north.  Scarce  a  week 
ago,  in  the  south  of  Italy,  we  were  panting  in  linen  jackets.  I 
find  myself  shivering  here,  in  a  latitude  five  hundred  miles  north 
of  Boston,  with  no  remedy  but  exercise  and  an  extra  shirt,  for  a 
cold  that  would  grace  December. 

It  is  amusing,  sometimes,  to  abandon  one's  self  to  a  valet  de 
place-  Compelled  to  resort  to  one  from  my  ignorance  of  the 
German,  I  have  fallen  upon  a  dropsical  fellow,  with  a  Bardolph 
nose,  whose  French  is  execrable,  and  whose  selection  of  objects 
of  curiosity  is  worthy  of  his  appearance.  His  first  point  was  the 
emperor's  stables.  We  had  walked  a  mi\&  and  a  half  to  see 
them.  Here  were  two  or  three  hundred  horses  of  all  breeds,  in 
a  bailding  that  the  emperor  himself  might  live  in,  with  a  mag 
nificent  inner  court  for  a  menage,  and  a  wilderness  of  grooms, 
dogs,  and  other  appurtenances.  I  am  as  fond  of  a  horse  as  most 
people,  but  with  all  Vienna  before  me,  and  little  time  to  lose,  I 


118  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

broke  into  the  midst  of  the  head  groom's  pedigrees,  and  request 
ed  to  be  shown  the  way  out.  Monsieur  Karl  did  not  take  the 
hint.  We  walked  on  a  half  mile,  and  stopped  before  another 
large  building.  "  What  is  this  !" — "  The  imperial  carriage- 
house,  monseigneur."  I  was  about  turning  on  my  heel  and 
taking  my  liberty  into  my  own  hands,  when  the  large  door  flew 
open,  and  the  blaze  of  gilding  from  within,  turned  me  from  my 
purpose.  I  thought  I  had  seen  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  equipages  at 
Rome.  The  imperial  family  of  Austria  ride  in  more  style  than 
his  holiness.  The  models  are  lighter  and  handsomer,  while  the 
gold  and  crimson  is  put  on  quite  as  resplendently.  The  most 
curious  part  of  the  show  were  ten  or  twelve  state  traineaux  or 
sleighs.  I  can  conceive  nothing  more  brilliant  (ban  a  turn-out 
of  these  magnificent  structures  upon  the  snow.  They  are  built 
with  aerial  lightness,  of  gold  and  sable,  with  a  seat  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet  from  the  ground,  and  arc  driven,  wilh  two  or  four 
horses,  by  the  royal  personage  himself.  The  grace  of  their  shape 
"and  the  splendor  of  their  gilded  trappings  are  inconceivable  to 
one  who  has  never  seen  them. 

Our  way  lay  through  the  court  of  the  imperial  palace.  A 
large  crowd  was  collected  round  a  carriage  with  four  horses 
standing  at  the  side-door.  As  we  approached  ifc,  all  hats  flew  off, 
and  a  beautiful  woman,  of  perhaps  twenty-eight,  came  down  the 
steps,  leading  a  handsome  boy  of  two  or  three  years.  It  was  the 
young  queen  of  Hungary  and  her  son.  If  I  h?,d  seen  such  ? 
face  in  a  cottage  ornee  on  the  borders  of  an  American  lake,  i 
should  have  thought  it  made  for  the  spot. 

We  entered  a  door  of  the  palace  at  which  stood  a  ferocious- 
looking  Croat  sentinel,  near  seven  frot  high,  TLree  G-ermac 
travelling  students  had  just  been  ref..oe-Jt  admittance.  A  little 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE. 


man  appeared  at  the  ring  of  the  bell  within,  and  after  a  prelimi 
nary  explanation  by  my  valet,  probably  a  lie,  he  made  a  low  bow, 
and  invited  rne  to  enter.  I  waited  a  moment,  and  a  permission 
was  brought  me  to  see  the  imperial  treasury.  Handing  it  to 
Karl,  I  requested  him  to  get  permission  inserted  for  my  three 
friends  at  the  door.  He  accomplished  it  in  the  same  incompre 
hensible  manner  in  which  he  had  obtained  my  own,  and  intro 
ducing  them  with  the  ill-disguised  contempt  of  a  valet  for  all 
men  with  dusty  coats,  we  commenced  the  rounds  of  the  curiosi 
ties  together. 

A  large  clock,  facing  us  as  we  entered,  was  just  striking. 
From  either  sid-  of  its  base,  like  companies  of  gentlemen  and 
ladies  advancing  to  greet  each  other,  appeared  figures  in  the  drusa 
and  semblance  of  the  royal  family  of  Austria,  who  remained  a 
moment,  and  then  retired,  bowing  themselves  courteously  out 
backward.  It  is  a  costly  affair,  presented  by  the  landgrave  of 
Hesse  to  Maria  Theresa,  in  1750. 

After  a  succession  of  watches,  snuff-boxes,  necklaces,  and 
jewels  of  every  description,  we  came  to  the  famous  Florentine 
diamond,  said  to  be  the  largest  in  the  world.  It  was  lost  by  a 
duke  of  Burgundy  upon  the  battle-field  of  Granson,  found  by  a 
soldier,  who  parted  with  it  for  five  florins,  sold  again,  and  found 
its  way  at  last  to  the  royal  treasury  of  Florence,  whence  it  was 
brought  to  Vienna.  Its  weight  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-nine 
and  a  half  carats,  and  it  is  estimated  at  one  million  forty-threo 
thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-four  florins.  It  looks  like  a 
lump  of  light.  Enormous  diamonds  surround  it,  but  it  hangs 
among  them  like  Hesperus  among  the  stars. 

The   next  side   of  the   gallery  is   occupied  by   specimens   of 
carved  ivory.      Many  of  them  are  antique,  and  half  of  them  are 


120  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


more  beautiful  than  decent.  There  were  two  bas-reliefs  am  on  5 
them  by  Raphael  Donner,  which  were  worth,  to  my  eye,  all  the 
gems  in  the  gallery.  They  vere  taken  from  scripture,  and  rep 
resented  the  Woman  of  Samaria,  at  the  u'ell,  and  Ilagar  waiting 
for  the  death  of  her  son.  No  powers  of  elocution,  no  enhance 
ment  of  poetry,  could  bring  those  touching  passages  of  the  Bible 
so  movingly  to  the  heart.  The  latter  particularly  arrested  me. 
The  melancholy  beauty  of  Hagar,  sitting  with  her  head  bowed 
upon  her  knees,  while  her  boy  is  lying  a  little  way  off,  beneath  a 
shrub  of  the  desert,  is  a  piece  of  unparalleled  workmanship.  It 
may  well  hang  in  the  treasury  of  an  emperor 

jMiui;:  tares  of  the  royal  family  in  their  childhood,  set  in  costly 
gems,  mas.Mve  plate- curiously  chased,  services  of  gold,  robe-  of 
diamonds,  sxom-hilted  swords,  dishes  wrought  of  solid  integral 
agates,  and  finally  the  crown  and  sceptre  of  Austria  upon  ied 
velvet  cushions,  looking  very  much  like  their  imitations  on  ths 
strtge.  were  among  the  world  of  splendors  unfolded  to  our  eyas. 
The  Florentine  diamond  and  the  bas-reliefs  by  Raphael  Donner 
were  all  I  coveted.  The  beauty  of  the  diamond  was  royal.  It 
needed  no  imagination  to  feel  its  value.  A  savage  would  pick  it. 
up  in  the  desert  for  a  star  dropped  out  of  the  sky.  For  the  rest, 
the  demand  on  my  admiration  fatigued  me,  arid  1  was  glad  to 
escape  with  my  dusty' friends  from  the  univei sity,  and  exchange 
courtesies  in  the  free  air.  One  of  them  spoke  Knglish  a  little, 
and  called  me  "  Mister  Engli>hmin,"  on  bidding  me  a  ieu.  I 
was  afraid  of  a  beer-shop  scene  in  Vienna,  and  did  not  correct 
the  mistake. 

As  we  were  going  out  of  the  court,  four  covered  wagons, 
drawn  each  by  four  superb  horses,  dashed  through  the  gate.  I 
waited  a  moment  to  see  what  they  contained.  Thirty  or  forty 


ON   BOARD   AN   AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  121 


servants  in  livery  came  out  from  the  palace,  and  took  from  the 
wagons  quantities  of  empty  baskets  carefully  labelled  with  direc 
tions.  They  were  from  Schoenbrunn,  where  the  emperor  is  at 
present  residing  with  his  court,  and  had  come  to  market  for  ihe 
imperial  kitchen.  It  should  be  a  good  dinner  that  requires  six 
teen  such  horses  to  carry  to  the  cook. 

It  was  the  hungry  hour  of  two,  and  I  was  still  musing  on  the 
emperor's  dinner,  and  admiring  the  anxious  interest  his  servants 
took  in  their  disposition  of  the  baskets,  when  a  blast  of  military 
music  came  to  my  ear.  It  was  from  the  barracks  of  the  impe 
rial  guard,  and  I  stepped  under  the  arch,  and  listened  to  them  an 
hour.  How  gloriously  they  played  !  It  was  probably  the  finest 
band  in  Austria.  I  have  heard  much  good  music,  but  of  its  kind 
this  was  like  a  new  sensation  to  me.  They  stand,  in  playing, 
ju.-t  under  the  window  at  which  the  emperor  appears  daily  when 
in  the  city. 

I  have  been  indebted  to  Mr.  Schwartz,  the  American  consul  at 
Vicuna,  for  a  very  unusual  degree  of  kindness.  Among  other 
polite  attentions,  he  procured  for  me  to-day  an  admission  to  the 
Polytechnic  schooj. — a  favor  granted  with  difficulty,  except  on  the 
appointed  days  for  public  visits. 

The  Polytechnic  school  was  established  in  1816,  by  the  pres 
ent  emperor.  The  building  stands  outside  the  rampart  of  the 
city,  of  elegant  proportions,  and  about  as  large  as  all  the  build 
ings  of  Yale  or  Harvard  college  thrown  into  one.  Its  object  is 
to  promote  induction  in  the  practical  sciences,  or,  in  other 
words,  to  give  a  practical  education  for  the  trades,  commerce,  or 
manufactures.  It  is  divided  into  three  departments.  The  first  is 
preparatory,  and  the  course  occupies  two  years.  The  studies 
are  religion  and  morals,  elementary  mathematics,  natural  history, 
6 


122        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

geography,  universal  history,  grammar,  and  "  tlw  German  style," 
declamation,  drawing,  writing,  and  the  French,  Italian,  and  ttolie- 
mian  languages.  To  enter  this  class,  the  boy  must  be  thirteen 
years  of  age,  and  pays  fifty  cents  per  month. 

The  second  course  is  commercial,  and  occupies  one  year.  The 
studies  are  mercantile  correspondence,  commercial  law,  mercan 
tile  arithmetic,  the  keeping  of  books,  geography  and  history,  as 
they  relate  to  commerce,  acquaintance  with  merchandise,  &c.  &c. 

The  third  course  lasts  one  year.  The  studies  are  chyniistry  as 
applicable  to  arts  and  trades,  the  fermentation  of  woods,  tannery, 
soap-making,  dying,  blanching,  &c.  &c.  ;  also  mechanism,  prac 
tical  geometry,  civil  architecture,  hydraulics,  and  technology. 
The  two  last  courses  are  given  gratis. 

The  whole  is  under  the  direction  of  a  principal,  who  has  under 
him  thirty  professors  and  two  or  three  guardians  of  apparatus. 

We  were  taken  first  into  a  noble  hall,  lined  with  glass  cases 
containing  specimens  of  every  article  manufactured  in  me 
German  dominions.  From  the  finest  silks  down  to  shoos,  wi»\s, 
nails,  and  mechanics'  tools,  here  were  all  the  products  of  human 
labor.  The  variety  was  astonishing.  AVithin  the  limits  of  a 
single  room,  the  pupil  is  here  made  acquainted  with  every 
mechanic  art  known  in  his  country. 

The  next  hall  was  devoted  to  models.  Here  was  every  kind  of 
bridge,  fortification,  lighthouse,  dry  dock,  breakwater,  canal-lock, 
ovC.  &c.  ;  models  of  steamboats,  of  ships,  and  of  churches,  in 
every  st.\lu  of  architecture.  It  was  a  little  world. 

We  went  thence  to  the  chemical  apartment.  The  servitor 
here,  a  man  without  education,  has  constructed  all  the  apparatus. 
He  is  an  old  gray-headed  man,  of  a  keen  German  countenance, 
and  great  simplicity  of  manners.  lie  takes  great  pride  in  having 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  123 


constructed  the  largest  and  most  complete  chemical  apparatus 
now  in  London.  The  one  which  he  exhibited  to  us  occupies  the 
whole  of  an  immense  hall,  and  produces  an  electric  discharge 
like  the  report  of  a  pistol.  The  ordinary  batteries  in  our  univer 
sities  are  scarce  a  twentieth  part  as  powerful. 

Afto-  showing  us  a  variety  of  experiments,  the  old  man  turned 
suddenly  ;u;<i  u^kt'd  u.s  if  \^  kii^w  the  geometrical  figures 
described  by  the  vibrations  of  musical  notes.  We  confessed  our 
ignorance,  and  he  produced  a  pane  of  glass  covered  with  black 
sand.  He  then  took  a  fiddle  bow,  and  holding  the  glass  horizon 
tally,  drew  it  downward  against  the  edge  at  a  peculiar  angle. 
The  sand  flew  as  if  it  had  been  bewitched,  and  took  the  shape  of 
a  perfect  square.  He  asked  us  to  name  a  figure.  We  named  a 
circle.  Another  careful  draw  of  the  bow,  and  the  sand  flew  into 
a  circle,  with  scarce  a  particle  out  of  its  perfect  curve.  Twenty 
times  he  repeated  the  experiment,  arid  with  the  most  complicated 
figures  drawn  en  paper.  Pie  had  reduced  it  to  an  art.  It 
would  have  hung  him  for  a  magician  a  century  ago. 

However  one  condemns  the  policy  of  Austria  with  respect  to 
her  subject  provinces  and  the  rest  of  Europe,  it  is  impossible  no!' 
to  be  struck  with  her  liberal  provision  for  her  own  immediate 
people.  The  public  institutions  of  all  kinds  in  Vienna  are 
allowed  to  be  the  finest  and  most  liberally  endowed  on  the  conti 
nent.  Her  hospitals,  prisons,  houses  of  industry,  and  schools, 
are  on  an  imperial  scale  of  munificence.  The  emperor  himself 
is  a  father  to  his  subjects,  and  every  tongue  blesses  him. 
Napoleon  envied  him  their  affection,  it  is  said,  and  certainly  no 
monarch  could  be  more  universally  beloved. 

Among  the  institutions  of  Vienna  are  two  which  are  peculiar. 
One  is  a  maison  d*  accouchement ,  into  which  any  female  can  enter 


124        SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


veiled,  remain  till  after  the  period  of  her  labor,  and  depart 
unknown,  leaving  her  child  in  the  care  of  the  institution,  which 
rears  it  as  a  foundling.  Its  object  is  a  benevolent  prevention  of 
infanticide. 

The  other  is  a  private  penitentiary,  to  which  the  fathers  of 
respectable  families  can  send  for  reformation  children  they  are 
unable  to  govern.  The  name  is^ept  a  secret,  and  the  culprits 
are  returned  to  their  families  after  a  proper  time,  punished  with 
out  disgrace.  Pride  of  character  is  thus  preserved,  while  the 
delinquent  is  firmly  corrected. 


•  , 

•• 


i 
i 


LETTER   XIII. 

Vienna— Palaces  and  Gardens— Mosaic  Copy  of  Da  Vinci's  "Last  Supper"— Collection  of 
\V  arlikc  A  iniquities  ;  Scanderbui  g's  Sword,  Montezurna's  Tomahawk,  Holies  of  the  Cru 
saders,  "\Yarriors  in  Armor,  the  Farmer  of  Augsburgh— Eoom  of  Portraits  of-'  elebrated 
Individuals— Gold  Busts  of  Jupiter  and  Juno— The  Olacis,  full  of  Garden?,  the  General 
liesort  of  the  People — Universal  Spirit  of  Enjoyment — Simplicity  and  Confidence  in  the 
Manners  of  the  Viennese — Baden. 

AT  the  foot  of  a  hill  in  one  of  the  beautiful  suburbs  of  Vienna, 
stands  a  noble  palace,  called  the  Lower  JBeluidere.  On  the 
summit  ot  the  hill  stands  another,  equally  magnificent,  called  the 
Upper  Bdvidcre,  arid  between  the  two  extend  broad  and  princely 
gardens,  open  to  the  public. 

On  the  lower  floor  of  the  entrance-hall  in  the  former  palace, 
lies  the  copy,  in  mosaic,  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  "  Last  Supper," 
done  at  Napoleon's  order.  Though  supposed  to  be  the  finest 
piece  of  mosaic  in  the  world,  it  is  so  large  that  they  have  never 
found  a  place  for  it.  A  temporary  balcony  has  been  erected  on 
one  side  of  the  room,  and  the  spectator  mounts  nearly  to  the 
ceiling  to  get  a  fair  position  for  looking  down  upon  it.  That 
unrivalled  picture,  now  going  to  decay  in  the  convent  at  Milan, 
will  probably  depend  upon  this  copy  for  its  name  with  posterity. 
*The  expression  in  the  faces  of  the  apostles  is  as  accurately 
preserved  as  in  the  admirable  engraving  of  Morghen. 


126  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

The  remaining  halls  in  the  palace  are  occupied  by  a  grand  col 
lection  of  antiquities,  principally  of  a  warlike  character.  When 
I  read  in  my  old  worm-eaten  Burton,  of  "  Scanderburgh's  strength," 
I  never  thought  to  see  his  sword.  It  stands  here  against  the  wall, 
a  long  straight  weapon  with  a  cross  hilt,  which  few  men  could 
heave  to  their  shoulders.  The  tomahawk  of  poor  Montezuma 
hangs  near  it.  It  was  presented  to  the  emperor  by  the  king  of 
Spain.  It  is  of  a  dark  granite,  and  polished  very  beautifully. 
What  a  singular  curiosity  to  find  in  Austria ! 

The  windows  are  draped  with  flags  dropping  in  pieces  with  age. 
This,  so  in  tatters,  was  renowned  in  the  crusades.  It  was  carried 
to  the  Holy  Land  and  brought  back  by  the  archduke  Ferdinand. 

A  hundred  warriors  in  bright  armor  stand  around  the  hall. 
Their  vizors  are  down,  their  swords  in  their  hands,  their  feet 
planted  for  a  spring.  One  can  scarce  believe  there  are  no  men 
in  them.  The  name  of  some  renowned  soldier  is  attached  to 
each.  This  was  the  armor  of  the  cruel  Visconti  of  Milan — that 
of  Duke  Alba  of  Florence — both  costly  suits,  beautifully  inlaid 
with  gold.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  stands  a  gigantic  fellow  ra 
full  armor,  with  a  sword  on  his  thigh  and  a  beam  in  his  right 
hand.  It  is  the  shell  of  the  famous  farmer  of  Augslurgh,  who 
was  in  the  service  of  one  of  the  emperors.  He  was  over  eight 
feet  in  height,  and  limbed  in  proportion.  How  near  such  relics 
bring  history  !  With  what  increased  facility  one  pictures  the 
warrior  to  his  fancy,  seeing  his  sword,  and  hearing  the  very  rattle 
of  his  armor.  Yet  it  puts  one  into  Hamlet's  vein  to  see  a  con 
temptible  valet  lay  his  hand  with  impunity  on  the  armed  shoulder, 
shaking  the  joints  that  once  belted  the  soul  of  a  Visconti !  I 
turned,  in  leaving  the  room,  to  take  a  second  look  at  the  flag  of 
the  crusade.  It  had  floated,  perhaps,  over  the  helmet  of  Occur 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  127 


de  Lion.  Saladin  may  have  had  it  in  his  e/e,  assaulting  the 
Christian  camp  with  his  pagans. 

In  the  next  room  hung  fifty  or  sixty  portraits  of  celebrated  in 
dividuals,  presented  in  their  time  to  the  emperors  of  Austria. 
There  was  one  of  Mary  of  Scotland.  It  is  a  face  of  superlative 
loveliness,  taken  with  a  careless  and  most  bewitching  half  smile, 
and  yet  not  without  the  look  of  royalty,  which  one  traces  in  all 
the  pictures  of  the  unfortunate  queen.  One  of  the  emperors  of 
Germany  married  Phillippina,  a  farmer's  daughter,  and  here  is 
her  portrait.  It  is  done  in  the  prim  old  style  of  the  middle  ages, 
but  the  face  is  full  of  character.  Her  husband's  portrait  hangs 
beside  it,  and  she  looks  more  born  for  an  emperor  than  he. 

Hall  after  hall  followed,  of  costly  curiosities.  A  volume  would 
not  describe  them.  Two  gold  busts  of  Jupiter  and  Juno,  by  Ben- 
venuto  Cellini,  attracted  my  attention  particularly.  They  were 
very  beautiful,  but  I  would  copy  them  in  bronze,  and  coin  "  the 
thunderer  and  his  queen,"  were  they  mine. 

Admiration  is  the  most  exhausting  thing  in  the  world.  The 
servitor  opened  a  gate  leading  into  the  gardens  of  the  palace,  that 
we  might  mount  to  the  Upper  Belvidere,  which  contains  the  im 
perial  gallery  of  paintings.  But  I  had  no  more  strength.  I 
could  have  dug  in  the  field  till  dinner  time — but  to  be  astonished 
more  than  three  hours  without  respite  is  beyond  me.  I  took  a 
stroll  in  the  garden.  How  delightfully  the  unmeaning  beauty  of 
a  fountain  refreshes  one  after  this  inward  fatigue.  I  walked  on, 
up  one  alley  and  down  another,  happy  in  finding  nothing  that 
surprised  me,  or  worked  upon  my  imagination,  or  bothered  my 
historical  recollections,  or  called  upon  my  worn  out  superlatives 
for  expression.  I  fervently  hoped  not  to  have  another  new  sen 
sation  till  after  dinner. 


12S         SUMMER   CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


Vienna  is  an  immense  city  (two  'hundred  .and  fifty  thousand 
inhabitants),  but  its  heart  only  is  walled  in.  -You  may  walk  f,  oni 
gate  to  gate  in  twenty  minutes.  In  leaving  the  walls  you  come 
upon  a  feature  of  the  city  which  distinguishes  it  from  every  other 
in  Europe.  Its  rampart  is  encircled  by  an  open  park  (called  the 
Glacis),  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  width  and  perhaps  three  miles  in 
circuit,  which  is,  in  fact,  in  the  centre  of  Vienna.  The  streets 
commence  again  on  the  other  side  of  it,  and  on  going  from  one 
part  of  the  city  to  the  other,  you  constantly  cross  this  lovely  belt 
of  verdure,  which  girds  her  heart  like  a  cestus  of  health.  The 
top  of  the  rampart  itself  is  planted  with  trees,  and,  commanding 
beautiful  views  in  every  direction,  it  is  generally  thronged  with 
people.  (It  was  a  favorite  walk  of  the  Duke  of  Reichstadt.) 
Between  this  and  the  Glacis  lies  a  deep  trench,  crossed  by  draw 
bridges  at  every  gate,  the  bottom  of  which  is  cultivated  prettily 
as  a  flower  garien.  Altogether  Vienna  is  a  beautiful  city.  Paris 
may  have  single  views  about  the  Tuihries  that  are  finer  than  any 
thing  of  the  same  kind  here,  but  this  capital  of  western  Europe, 
as  a  whole,  is  quite  the  most  imposing  city  I  have  seen. 

The  Glacis  is  full  of  gardens.  I  requested  my  disagreeable 
necessity  of  a  valet  ^  this  afternoon,  to  take  me  to  two  or  three  of 
the  most  general  resorts  of  the  people.  We  passed  out  by  one 
of  the  city  gates,  five  minutes  walk  from  the  hotel,  and  entered 
immediately  into  a  crowd  of  people,  sauntering  up  and  down 
under  the  alleys  of  the  Glacis.  A  little  farther  on  we  found  a 
fanciful  building,  buried  in  trees,  and  occupied  as  a  summer  cafe. 
In  a  little  circular  temple  in  front  was  stationed  a  band  of  music, 
and  around  it  for  a  considerable  distance  were  placed  small  tables, 
filled  just  now  with  elegantly-dressed  people,  eating  ices,  or  drink 
ing  coffee.  It  was  in  every  respect  like  a  private  fete  champetrc 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  J29 


I  wandered  about  for  an  hour,  expecting  in  voluntarily  to  ;ueet 
some  acquaintance — there  was  such  a  look  of  kindness  and  unre 
serve  throughout.  It  is  a  desolate  feeling  to  be  alone  in  such  a 
crowd. 

We  jumped  into  a  carriage  and  drove  round  the  Glacis  for  a 
mile,  passing  everywhere  crowds  of  people  idling  leisurely  along 
and  evidently  out  for  pleasure.  We  stopped  before  a  superb  fa- 
?ade,  near  one  of  the  gates  of  the  city.  It  was  the  entrance  to 
the  Volk&garten.  We  entered  in  front  of  a  fountain,  and  turning 
up  a  path  to  the  left,  found  our  way  almost  impeded  by  another 
crowd.  A  semicircular  building,  with  a  range  of  columns  in 
front  encircling  a  stand  for  a  band  of  music,  was  surrounded  by 
perhaps  two  or  three  thousand  people.  Small  tables  and  seats 
under  trees,  were  spread  in  every  direction  within  reach  of  the 
music.  The  band  played  charmingly.  Waiters  in  white  jackets 
and  aprons  were-  luuniug  to  and  fro,  receivinir  and  obeying  orders 
for  refresh  merits,  and  heie  again  all  scorned  abandon-  d  to  onj 
spirit  of  enjoyment.  I  had  thought  we  must  have  kft  all  Vr.-nua 
.at  the  other  garden.  I  wondered  how  so  many  people  could  be 
spared  from  their  occupations  and  families.  It  was  no  holiday/ 
Ct  It  is  always  as  gay  in  fair  w< •ather,"  said  Karl. 

A  little  back  into  the  garden  stands  a  beautiful  little  structure, 
on  the  model  of  the  temple  of  Theseus  in  Greece.  It  was  bit  U 
for  Canova's  group  of  u  Theseus  and  the  Centaur,"  bought  bv 
the  emperor.  1  had  seen  copies  of  it  in  Rome,  but  was  of  course 
much  more  struck  with  the  original.  It  is  a  noble  piece  of 
sculpture. 

Still  farther  back,  on  the  rise  of  a  mount,  stood  another  fanci 
ful  cafe,  with  another  band  of  music — and  another  crowd  ! 
After  we  had  walked  around  it,  my  man  was  hurrying  me  away. 


130         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


u  You  have  not  seen  the  au  gar  ten,"  said  he.  It  stands  upon  a 
little  green  island  in  the  Danube,  and  is  more  extensive  than 
either  of  the  others.  But  I  was  content  where  I  was  ;  and  dis 
missing  my  Asmodeus,  I  determined  to  spend  the  evening  wan 
dering  about  in  the  crowds  alone.  The  sun  went  down,  the 
lamps  were  lit,  the  alleys  were  illuminated,  the  crowd  increased, 
and  the  emperor  himself  could  not  have  given  a  gayer  evening's 
entertainment. 

Vienna  has  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  profligate  capital 
in  Europe.  Perhaps  it  is  so.  There  is  certainly,  even  to  a 
stranger,  no  lack  of  temptation  to  every  species  of  pleasure. 
But  there  is,  besides,  a  degree  of  simplicity  and  confidence  in 
the  manners  of  the  Viennese  which  I  had  believed  peculiar  to 
America,  and  inconsistent  with  the  state  of  society  in  Europe. 
In  the  most  public  resorts,  and  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and  eve 
ning,  modest  and  respectable  young  women  of  the  middle  classes 
walk  alone  perfectly  secure  from  molestation.  They  sit  under 
the  trees  in  these  public  gardens,  eat  ices  at  the  cafes,  walk  home 
unattended,  and  no  one  seems  to  dream  of  impropriety.  Whole 
families,  too,  spend  the  afternoon  upon  a  seat  in  a  thronged  place 
of  resort,  their  children  playing  about  them,  the  father  reading, 
and  the  mother  sewing  or  knitting,  quite  unconscious  of  observa- 
t'i(>n.  The  lower  and  middle  classes  live  all  summer,  I  am  told, 
u  of  doors.  It  is  never  oppressively  warm  in  this  latitude,  and 
their  houses  are  deserted  after  three  or  four  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon,  and  the  whole  population  pours  out  to  the  different  gardens 
on  the  Glacis,  wheYe  till  midnight,  they  seem  perfectly  happy  in 
the  enjoyment  of  the  innocent  and  unexpensive  pleasures  which  a 
wise  government  has  provided  for  them 

The  nobles  and  richer  class  pass  their 'summer  in  the  circle  of 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE. 


rural  villages  near  the  city.  They  are  nested  about  on  the  hills, 
and  crowded  with  small  and  lovely  rural  villas  more  like  the 
neighborhood  of  Boston  than  anything  I  have  seen  in  Europe. 

Baden,  where  the  emperor  passes  much  of  his  time,  is  called 
"  the  miniature  Switzerland."  Its  baths  are  excellent,  its  hills 
are  cut  into  retired  and  charmi  ng  walks,  and  from  June  till  Sep 
tember  it  is  one  of  the  gayest  of  watering  places.  It  is  about  a 
two  hours'  drive  from  the  city,  and  omnibuses  at  a  very  low  rate, 
run  between  at  all  times  of  the  day.  The  Austrians  seldom 
travel,  and  the  reason  is  evident.  They  have  everything  for 
which  others  travel,  at  home. 


LETTER  XIV, 

Vienna — The  Palace  of  Liechsteiistein, 

THE  red-nosed  German  led  on  through  the  crowded  Graben, 
jostling  aside  the  Parisian-looking  lady  and  her  handsome  Hun 
garian  cavalier,  the  phlegmatic  smoker  and  the  boarded  Turk, 
alike.  We  passed  the  imperial  guard,  the  city  gate,  the  lofty 
bridge  over  the  trench  (casting  a  look  below  at  the  flower  garden 
laid  out  in  "  the  ditch"  which  encircles  the  wall),  and  entered 
upon  the  lovely  Glacis — one  step  from  the  crowded  street  to  the 
fresh  greenness  of  a  park. 

Would  you  believe,  as  you  "walk  up  this  shaded  alley,  that  you 
are  in  the  heart  of  the  city  still  ? 

The  Glacis  is  crossed,  with  its  groups  of  fair  children  and  shy 
maids,  its  creeping  invalids,  its  solitude-seeking  lovers,  and  its 
idling  soldiers,  and  we  again  enter  the  crowded  street.  A  half 
hour  more,  and  the  throng  thins  again,  the  country  opens,  and 
here  you  are,  in  front  of  the  palace  of  Luchstenstein,  the  first 
noble  of  Austria.  A  modern  building,  of  beautiful  and  light 
architecture,  rises  from  its  clustering  trees  ;  servants  in  hand 
some  livery  hang  about  the  gates  and  lean  against  the  pillars  of 
the  portico,  and  with  an  explanation  from  my  lying  valet,  who 


SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN.         133 


evidently  makes  me  out  an  ambassador  at  least,  by  the  ceremony 
with  which  I  am  received,  a  gray  servitor  makes  his  appearance 
arid  opens  the  immense  glass  door  leading  from  the  side  of  the 
court. 

One  should  step  gingerly  on  the  poli>hed  marble  of  this  superb 
staircase  !  It  opens  at  once  into  a  lofry  hall,  the  ceiliug  of  which 
is  painted  in  fresco  by  an  Italian  master.  It  is  a  room  of  noble 
proportions.  Few  churches  in  America  are  larger,  asd  yet  it 
seems  in  keeping  with  the  style  of  the  palace,  the  staircase — 
everything  but  the  creature  meant  to  inhabit  it. 
•  How  different  arc  thc'nu-rds  in  which  one  sees  pictures  !  To 
day  I  am  in  the  humor  tn  give  it  to  the  painter's  delusion.  The 
scene  is  real.  Atiiiodcus  is  at  my  elbow,  and  I  am  witched  from 
spot  to  spot,  invisible  myself,  gazing  on  the  varied  scenes  re 
vealed  only  to  the  inspired  vision  of  genius. 

A  landscape  opens.*  It  is  one  of  the  woody  recesses  of  Lake 
Nervi,  at  the  very  edge  of  "  Dian's  Mirror."  The  huntress 
queen  is  bathing  with  her  nymphs.  The  sandal  is  half  laced 
over  an  ankle  that  seems  fit  for  nothing  else  than  to  sustain  a 
goddess,  when  casting  her  eye  on  the  lovely  troop  emerging  from 
the  water,  she  sees  the  unfortunate  Calista  surrounded  by  her 
astonished  sisters,  and  fainting  with  shame-  Poor  Calista  !  one's 
heart  pleads  for  her.  But  how  expressive  is  the  cold  condemning 
look  in  the  beautiful  face  of  her  mistress  queen  !  Even  the  dogs 
have  started  from  their  reclining  position  on  the  grass,  and  stand 
gazing  at  the  unfortunate,  wondering  at  the  silent  astonishment 
of  the  virgin  troop.  Pardon  her,  imperial  Dian  ! 

*  By  Fianceschini.  He  passed  his  life  with  the  Prince  Liechstensteh^ 
and  his  pictures  are  found  only  in  this  collection.  He  is  a  delicious  painter, 
full  of  poetry,  with  the  one  fault  of  too  voluptuous  a  style. 


134        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN 


Come  to  the  baptism  of  a  child  !  It  is  a  vision  of.  Guido 
Reni's.*  A  young  mother,  apparently  scarce  sixteen,  has 
brought  her  first  child  to  the  altar.  She  kneels  with  it  in  her 
arms,  looking  earnestly  into  the  face  of  the  priest  while  he 
sprinkles  the  water  on  its  pure  forehead,  and  pronounces  the 
words  of  consecration.  It  is  a  most  lovely  countenance,  made 
lovelier  by  the  holy  feeling  in  her  heart.  Her  eyes  are  moist, 
her  throat  swells  with  emotion— my  own  sight  dims  while  I  gaze 
upon  her.  We  have  intruded  on  one  of  the  most  holy  moments 
of  nature.  A  band  of  girls,  sisters  by  the  resemblance,  have  ac 
companied  the  young  mother,  and  stand, 'with  love  and  wonder  in 
their  eyes,  gazing  on  the  face  of  the  child.  How  strangely  the 
mingled  thoughts,  crowding  through  their  minds,  are  expressed 
in  their  excited  features.  It  is  a  scene  worthy  of  an  audience  of 
angels. 

We  have  surprised  Giorgione's  wife  (the  "  Flora"  of  Titian, 
the  «  love  in  life"  of  Byron)  locking  at  a  sketch  by  her  husband. 
It  stands  on  his  easel,  outlined  in  crayons,  and  represents  Lu- 
cretia  the  moment  before  she  plunges  the  dagger 'into  her  bosom. 
She  was  passing  through  his  studio,  and  you  see  by  the  half  sus 
pended  foot,  that  she  stopped  but  for  a  momentary  glance,  and 
has  forgotten  herself  in  thoughts  that  have  risen  unaware.  The 
head  of  Lucretia  resembles  her  own,  and  she  is  wondering  what 
Giorgione  thought  while  he  drew  it.  Did  he  resemble  her  to  the 
Roman's  wife  in  virtue  as  well  as  in  feature  ?  There  is  an  em 
barrassment  in  the  expression  of  her  face,  as  if  she  doubted  he 
had  drawn  it  half  in  mischief.  We  will  leave  the  lovely  Vene 
tian  to  her  thoughts.  When  she  sits  again  to  Titian,  it  will  be 
with  a  colder  modesty. 

*  One  of  the  loveliest  pictures  that  divine  painter  ever  drew. 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  135 

Hoogstraeten,  a  Dutch  painter,  conjures  up  a  scene  for  you. 
It  is  an  old  man,  who  has  thrust  his  head  through  a  prison  gate, 
and  is  looking  into  the  street  with  the  listless  patience  and  curi 
osity  of  one  whom  habit  has  reconciled  to  his  situation.  His 
beard  is  neglected,  his  hair  is  slightly  grizzled,  and  on  his  head 
sits  a  shabby  fur  cap,  that  has  evidently  shared  all  his  imprison 
ment,  and  is  quite  past  any  pride  of  appearance.  What  a  va 
cant  face  !  How  perfectly  he  seems  to  look  upon  the  street 
below,  as  upon  something  with  which  he  has  nothing  more  to  do. 
There  is  no  anxiety  to  get  out,  in  its  expression.  He  is  past  that. 
He  looks  at  the  playing  children,  and  watches  the  zigzag  trot  of 
an  idle  dog  with  the  quiet  apathy  of  one  who  can  find  nothing 
better  to  help  off  the  hour.  It  is  a  picture  of  stolid,  contented, 
unthinking  misery. 

Look  at  this  boy,  standing  impatiently  on  one  foot  at  his 
mother's  knee,  while  she  pares  an  apple  for  him  !  With  what  an 
amused  and  playful  love  she  listens  to  his  hurrying  entreaties, 
stealing  a  glance  at  him  as  he  pleads,  with  a  deeper  feeling  than 
he  will  be  able  to  comprehend  for  years  !  It  is  one  of  the 
commonest  scenes  in  life,  yet  how  pregnant  with  speculation  ! 

On — on — what  an  endless  gallery  !  I  have  seen  twelve 
rooms,  with  forty  or  fifty  pictures  in  each,  and  there  are  thirteen 
halls  more  !  The  delusion  begins  to  fade.  These  are  pictures 
merely.  Beautiful  ones,  however  !  '  If  language  could  convey  to 
your  eye  the  impressions  that  this  waste  and  wealth  of  beauty 
have  conveyed  to  mine,  I  would  write  of  every  picture.  There 
is  not  an  indifferent  one  here.  All  Italy  together  has  not  so 
many  works  by  the  Flemish  masters  as  are  contained  in  this 
single  gallery— certainly  none  so  fine.  A  most  princely  fortune 
for  many  generations  must  have  been  devoted  to  its  purchase. 


136         SUMMER   CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

I  have  seen  seven  or  eight  things  in  all  Italy,  by  Corregio. 
They  were  the  gems  of  the  galleries  in  which  they  exist,  but 
always  small,  and  seemed  to  me  to  want  a  certain  finish.  Here 
is  a  Corregio,  a  large  picture,  and  no  miniature  ever  had  so 
elaborate  a  beauty.  It  melts  into  the  eye.  It  is  a  conception 
of  female  beauty  so  very  extraordinary,  that  it  seems  to  me  it 
must  become,  in  the  mind  of  every  one  who  sees  it,  the  model 
and  the  standard  of  all  loveliness.  It  is  a  nude  Venus,  sitting 
lost  in  thought,  with  Cupid  asleep  in  her  lap.  She  is  in  the 
sacred  retirement  of  solitude,  and  the  painter  has  thrown  into 
her  attiiude  and  expression  so  speaking  an  unconsciousness  of  all 
presence,  that  you  feel  like  a  daring  intruder  while  you  gaze 
upon  the  picture.  Surely  such  softness  of  coloring,  such  fault 
less  proportions,  such  subdued  and  yet  eloquent  richness  of  teint 
in  the  skin,  was  never  before  attained  by  mortal  pencil.  I  am 
here,  some  five  thousand  miles  from  America,  yet  would  I  have 
made  the  voyage  but  to  raise  my  standard  of  beauty  by  this 
ravishing  image  of  woman. 

In  the  circle  of  Italian  galleries,  one  finds  less  of  female 
beauty,  both  in  degree  and  in  variety,  than  his  anticipations  had 
promised.  Three  or  four  heads  at  the  most,  of  the  many 
hundreds  that  he  sees,  are  imprinted  in  his  memory,  and  serve  as 
standards  in  his  future  observations  Even  when  standing 
before  the  most  celebrated  pictures,  one  often  returns  to  recollec 
tions  of  living  beauty  in  his  own  country,  by  which  the  m«st 
glowing  head  of  Titian  or  the  Veronese  suffer  in  comparison.  In 
my  own  experience  this  has  been  often  true,  and  it  is  perhaps 
the  only  thing  in  which  my  imagination  of  foreign  wonders  was 
too  feivent.  To  this  Venus  of  Corregio's,  however,  I  unhe>itu- 
tingly  submit  all  knowledge,  all  conception  even,  of  female  l-»ve- 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  137 


liness.  I  have  seen  nothing  in  life,  imagined  nothing  from  the 
descriptions  of  poets,  that  is  any  way  comparable  to  it.  It  is 
matchless. 

In  one  of  the  last  rooms  the  servitor  unlocked  two  handsome 
cases,  and  showed  me,  with  a  great  deal  of  circumstance,  two 
heads  by  Denner.  They  were  an  old  man  and  his  wife — two 
hale,  temperate,  good  old  country  gossips — but  so  curiously 
finished  !  Every  pore  was  painted.  You  counted  the  stiff 
stumps  of  the  good  man's  beard  as  you  might  those  of  a  living 
person,  till  you  were  tired.  Every  wrinkle  looked  as  if  a  month 
had  been  spent  in  elaborating  it.  The  man  said  they  were 
extremely  valuable,  and  I  certainly  never  saw  anything  more 
curiously  and  perhaps  uselessly  wrought. 

Near  them  was  a  capital  picture  of  a  drunken  fellow,  sitting 
by  himself  and  laughing  heartily  at  his  own  performance  on  the 
pipe.  It  was  irresistible,  and  I  joined  in  the  laugh  till  the  long 
suite  of  halls  rung  again. 

Landscapes  by  Van  Delen — such  as  1  have  seen  engravings  of 
in  America,  and  sighed  over  as  unreal — the  skies,  the  temples, 
the  water,  the  soft  mountains,  the  distant  ruins,  seemed  so  like 
the  beauty  of  a  dream.  Here,  they  recall  to  me  even  lovolier 
scenes  in  Italy — atmospheres  richer  than  the  painter's  pallet  can 
imitate,  and  ruins  and  temples  whose  ivy-grown  and  melancholy 
grandeur  are  but  feebly  copied  at  the  best. 

Come,  Karl  !  I  am  bewildered  with  these  pictures.  You 
have  twenty  such  galleries  in  Vienna,  you  say  !  I  have  seen 
enough  for  to-day,  however,  and  we  will  save  the  Belvidere  till 
to-morrow.  Here  !  pay  the  servitor,  and  the  footman,  and  the 
porter,  and  let  us  get  into  the  open  air.  How  common  look 
your  Viennese  after  the  celestial  images  we  have  left  behind  I 


138          SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


And,  truly,  this  is  the  curse  of  refinement.  The  faces  we 
should  have  loved  else,  look  dull  !  The  forms  that  were  graceful 
before,  move  somehow  heavily.  I  have  entered  a  gallery  ere 
LOW,  thinking  well  of  a  face  that  accompanied  me,  and  I  have 
learned  indifference  to  it,  by  sheer  comparison,  before  coming 
away. 

We  return  through  the  Kohlmarket,  one  of  the  most  fashionable 
streets  of  Vienna.  It  is  like  a  fancy  ball.  Hungarians,  Poles, 
Croats,  Wallachians,  Jews,  Moldavians,  Greeks,  Turks,  all 
dressed  in  their  national  and  striking  costumes,  promenade  up 
and  down,  smoking  all,  and  none  exciting  the  slightest  observa 
tion.  Every  third  window  is  a  pipe-shop,  and  they  bhow,  by 
their  splendor  and  variety,  the  expensiveness  of  the  passion. 
Some  of  them  are  marked  "  two  hundred  dollars."  The  streets 
reek  with  tobacco  smoke.  Yon  never  catch  a  breath  of  untainted 
air  within  the  Glacis.  You.-  hbte.\,  your  cafe,  your  coach,  your 
friend,  are  all  redolent  of  tV  bWtfa  ^i^^^infi;  odor. 


LETTER    XV, 

The  Palace  of  Schoenbrunn— Ilietzing,  the  Summer  Retreat  of  tlie  Wealthy  Viennese— 
Country-IIouse  of  the  American  Consul— Specimen  of  Pure  Domestic  Happiness  in  a 
German  Family— Splendid  Village  Ball— Substantial  Fare  for  the  Ladies— Curious 
Fashion  of  Cushioning  the  Windows— German  Grief— The  Upper  Belvidere  Palace- 
Endless  Quantity  of  Pictures. 


DROVE  to  Schotiibrunn.  It  is  a  princely  palace,  some  three 
miles  from  the  city,  occupied  at  present  by  the  emperor  and  his 
court.  Napoleon  resided  here  during  his  visit  to  Vienna,  and 
here  his  son  died — the  two  circumstances  which  alone  make  it 
worth  much  trouble  to  see.  The  afternoon  was  too  cold  to  hope 
to  meet  the  emperor  in  the  grounds,  and  being  quite  satisfied 
with  drapery  arid  modern  paintings,  I  contented  myself  with 
having  diivori  through  the  court,  and  kept  on  to  Ilietzing. 

This  is  a  small  village  of  country-seats  within  an  hour's  drive 
of  the  city  — another  Jamaica-Plains,  or  Dorchester  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Boston.  It  is  the  summer  retreat  of  most  of 
the  rank  and  fashion  of  Vienna.  The  American  consul  has  here 
a  charming  country-house,  buried  in  trees,  where  the  few  of  our 
countrymen  who  travel  to  Austria  find  the  most  hospitable  of 
welcomes.  A  bachelor  friend  of  mine  from  New  York  is 
domesticated  in  the  village  with  a  German  family.  I  was  struck 


140        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

with  the  Americanism  of  their  manners.  The  husband  and  wife, 
a  female  relative  and  an  intimate  friend  of  the  family,  were 
sitting  in  the  garden,  engaged  in  grave,  quiet,  sensible  conversa 
tion.  They  had  passed  the  afternoon  together.  Their  manners 
were  affectionate  to  each  other,  but  serious  and  respectful. 
When  I  entered,  they  received  me  with  kindness,  and  the 
conversation  was  politely  changed  to  French,  which  they  all  spoke 
fluently.  Topics  were  started,  in  which  it  was  supposed  I  would 
be  interested,  and  altogether  the  scene  was  one  of  the  simplest 
and  purest  domestic  happiness.  This  seems  to  you,  I  dare  say, 
like  the  description  of  a  very  common  thing,  but  I  have  not 
seen  such  a  one  before  since  I  left  my  country.  It  is  the  first 
family  I  have  found  in  two  years'  travel  who  lived  in,  and 
seemed  sufficient  for,  themselves.  It  came  over  me  with  a  kind 
of  feeling  of  refreshment. 

In  the  evening  there  was  a  ball  at  a  public  room  in  the  village. 
It  was  built  in  the  rear  of  a  cafe,  to  which  we  paid  abuut  thirty 
cents  for  entrance.  I  was  not  prepared  for  the  splendor  with 
which  it  was  got  up.  The  hall  was  very  large 'and  of  beautiful 
proportions,  built  like  the  interior  of  a  temple,  with  columns  on 
the  four  sides.  A  partition  of  glass  divided  it  from  a  supper- 
room  equally  large,  in  which  were  set  out'  perhaps  fifty  tables, 
furnished  with  a  carle,  from  which  each  person  ordered  his  supper 
when  he  wished  it,  after  the  fashion  of  a  restaurant.  The  best 
baud  in  Vienna  filled  the  orchestra,  led  by  the  celebrated 
Strauss,  who  has  been  honored  for  his  skill  with  presents  from 
half  the  monarchs  of  Europe. 

The  ladies  entered,  dressed  in  perfect  taste,  a  la  Parisiennc, 
but  the  gentlemen  (hear  it,  Basil  Hall  and  Mrs.  Trollope  !) 
came  in  frock  coats  and  loots,  and  danced  with  their  hats  on  ! 


ON    BOARD   AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE. 


It  was  a  public  ball,  and  there  was,  of  course,  a  great  mixture 
of  society  ;  but  1  was  asMired  that  it  was  attended  constantly  by 
the  most  respectable  people  of  the  village,  and  was  as  respectable 
as  anything  of  the  kind  in  the  middle  classes.  There  were, 
certainly,  many  ladies  in  the  company,  of  eleirant  manners  and 
appearance,  and  among  the  gentlemen  I  recognised  two  attaches 
to  tin*  French  embassy,  whom  I  had  known  in  Paris,  and  several 
Austrian  gentlemen  of  rank  were  pointed  out  to  me  amonir  the 
dancers.  The  galopade  and  the  waltz  were  the  only  dances,  and 
dirty  boots  and  hats  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  it  was  the 
best  waltzing  I  ever  saw.  They  danced  with  a  soul. 

The  best  part,  of  it  was  the  supper.  They  danced  and  eat — 
danced  and  eat,  the  evening  through.  It  was  quite  the  more 
important  entertainment  of  the  two.  The  most  delicate  ladies 
prest  nt  returned  three  and  four  times  to  the  supper,  ordering 
fried  chicken,  salads,  cold  meats,  and  beer,  again  and  again,  as  if 
every  waltz  created  a  fresh  appetite.  The  bill  was  called  for, 
the*  ladies  assisted  in  making  the  change,  the  tankard  was 
drained,  and  off  they  strolled  to  the  ball-room  to  engage  with 
renewed  spirit  in  the  dance.  And  these,  positively,  were  ladies 
who,  in  dress,  manners,  and  modest  demeanor,  might  pass 
uncriticised  in  any  society  in  the  world  !  Their  husbands  and 
brothers  attended  them,  and  no  freedom  was  attempted,  and  I  am 
sure  it  would  not  have  been  permitted  even  to  speak  to  a  lady 
without  a  formal  introduction. 

^\  e  left  most  of  the  company  supping  at  a  late  hour,  and  I 
drove  into  the  city,  amused  with  the  ball,  and  reconciled  to  any 
or  all  of  the  manners  which  travellers  in  America  find  so 
peculiarly  entertaining. 


142        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

These  cold  winds  from  the  Danube  have  given  me  a 
rheumatism.  I  was  almost  reconciled  to  it  this  morning, 
however,  by  a  curtain-scene  which  I  should  have  missed  but  for 
its  annoyance.  I  had  been  driven  out  of  my  bed  at  daylight, 
and  was  walking  my  room  between  the  door  and  the  window, 
when  a  violent  knocking  in  the  street  below  arrested  my 
attention.  A  respectable  family  occupies  the  house  opposite, 
consisting  of  a  father  and  mother  and  three  daughters,  the  least 
attractive  of  whom  has  a  lover.  I  cannot  well  avoid  observing 
them  whenever  I  am  in  my  room,  for  every  house  in  Vienna  has 
a  leaning  cushion  on  the  window  for  the  elbows,  and  the  ladies 
of  all  classes  are  upon  them  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  A 
handsome  carriage,  servants  in  livery,  and  other  circumstances, 
leave  no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  my  neighbors  are  rather  of  the 
better  class. 

The  lover  stood  at  the  street  door  with  a  cloak  on  his  arm,  and 
a  man  at  his  side  with  his  portmanteau.  .He  was  going  on 
a  journey,  and  had  come  to  take  leave  of  his  mistress.  He 
was  let  in  by  a  gaping  servant,  who  looked  rather  astonished  at 
the  hour  he  had  chosen  for  his  visit,  but  the  drawing-room 
windows  were  soon  thrown  open,  and  the  lady  made  her 
appearance  with  her  hair  in  papers  and  other  marks  of  a  hasty 
toilet.  My  room  is  upon  the  same  floor,  and  as  I  paced  to  and 
tVo,  the  narrowness  of  the  street  in  a  manner  forced  them  upon 
my  observation.  The  scene  was  a  very  violent  one,  and  the 
lady's  tears  flowed  without  restraint.  After  twenty  partings  at 
least,  the  lover  scarce  getting  to  the  door  before  he  returned  to 
take  another  embrace,  he  finally  made  his  exit,  and  the  lady 
threw  herself  on  a  sofa  and  hid  her  face — for  five  minutes  !  I 
had  began  to  feel  for  her,  although  her  swollen  eyes  added  very 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  143 

unnecessarily  to  her  usual  plainness,  when  she  rose  and  rang  the 
bell.  The  servant  appeared  and  disappeared,  and  in  a  few- 
minutes  returned  with  a  ham,  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  a  mug  of 
beer !  and  down  sets  my  sentimental  miss  and  consoles  the 
agony  of  parting  with  a  meal  that  I  would  venture  to  substitute 
in  quantity  for  any  working  man's  lunch. 

I  went  to  bed  and  rose  at  nine,  and  she  was  sitting  at 
breakfast  with  the  rest  of  the  family,  playing  as  good  a  knifa 
and  fork  as  her  sisters,  though,  I  must  admit,  with  an  expression 
of  sincere  melancholy  in  her  countenance. 

The  scene,  I  am  told  by  my  friend  the  consul,  was  perfectly 
German.  They  eat  a  great  deal,  he  says,  in  affliction.  The 
poet  writes  : — 

"  They  are  the  silent  griefs  which  cut  the  heart-strings." 
For  silent  read  hungry 


The  Upper  Bclvidere,  a  palace  containing  eighteen  large 
rooms,  filled  with  pictures.  This  is  the  imperial  gallery  and  the 
first  in  Austria.  How  can  I  give  you  an  idea  of  perhaps  five 
hundred  masterpieces  !  You  see  here  now,  and  by  whom  Italy 
has  been  stripped.  They  have  bought  up  all  Flanders  one 
would  think,  too.  In  one  room  here  are  twenty-eight  superb 
Vandykes.  Austria,  in  fact,  has  been  growing  rich  while  every 
other  nation  on  the  continent  has  been  growing  poor,  and  she 
has  purchased  the  treasures  of  half  the  world  at  a  discount.* 

*  Besides  the  three  galleries  of  the  Belvidere,  Leichstenstein,  and  Ester- 
hazy,  which  contain  as  many  choice  masters  as  Rome  and  Florence  together, 


144  SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


It  is  wearisome  writing  of  pictures,  one's  language  is  so 
limited.  I  must  mention  one  or  two  in  this  collection,  however, 
and  I  will  let  you  off  entirely  on  the  Esterhazy,  which  is  nearly 
as  fine. 

Cleopatra  dying.  She  is  represented  younger  than  usual,  and 
with  a  more  fragile  and  less  queenly  style  of  beauty  than  is 
common.  It  h  a  fair  slight  creature  of  seventeen,  who  looks 
made  to  depend  for  her  very  breath  upon  affection,  and  is  dying 
of  a  broken  heart.  It  is  painted  with  great  feeling,  and  with  a 
soft  and  delightful  tone  of  color  which  is  peculiar  to  the  artist. 
It  is  the  third  of  Guido  Cagnacci's  pictures  that  I  have  seen. 
One  was  the  gem  of  a  gallery  at  .Bologna,  and  was  bought  last 
summer  by  Mr.  Cabri  o*"  Boston. 

Th  i  wife  of  Potiphar  is  usually  represented  as  a  woman  of 
midiidle  age,  witn  a  tuil,  voluptuous  person.  Mne  is  so  drawn,  I 
remember,  in  the  famous  picture  in  the  Barberim  palace  at 
Rome,  said  to  be  the  most  exprees-ive  thing  of  its  kind  in  the 
world.  Here  is  a  painting  less  dangerously  expressive  of  passion 
bur  full  of  beauty.  She  is  eighteen  at  the  mo>t,  fair,  delicate, 
and  st  uggles  with  the  slender  boy,  who  seems  scarce  older  than 
herself,  more  like  a  sister  from  whom  a  mischievous  brother  has 
stolen  something  in  sport.  Her  partly  disclosed  figure  has  all 
the  incomplete  slightness  of  a  girl.  The  handsome  features  of 
Joseph  express  more  embarrassment  than  anger.  The  habitual 
cou:tesy  to  his  lovely  mistress  is  sti'l  there,  his  glance  is  just 
averted  from  the  snowy  bosom  toward  which  he  is  drawn,  but  in 
the  snide-book  refers  the  traveller  to  sixty-four  private  galleries  of  oil 
},aintin».s.  well  worth  his  attention,  a.,(Ho  twenty-five  private  collections  of 
engravings  and  antiquities.  We  shall  soon  be  obliged  to  goto  Vienna  to 
study  the  arts,  at  this  rate.  They  have  only  no  sculpture. 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  145 

the  firmly  curved  lip  the  sense  of  duty  sits  clearly  defined,  and 
evidently  will  triumph.  I  have  forgotten  the  painter's  name. 
His  model  must  have  been  some  innocent  girl  whose  modest 
beauty  led  him  away  from  his  subject.  Called  by  another  name 
the  picture  were  perfect. 

A  portrait  of  Count  Wallenstein,  by  Vandyke.  It  looks  a 
man,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word.  The  pendant  to  it  is  the 
Countess  Turentaxis,  and  she  is  a  woman  he  might  well  have 
loved — calm,  lofty,  and  pure.  They  are  pictures,  I  should  think, 
would  have  an  influence  on  the  character  of  those  who  saw  them 
habitually. 

Here  is  a  curious  picture  by  Schnoer — Mephisiophdes  tempting 
Faust.  The  scholar  sits  at  his  table,  with  a  black  letter  volume 
open  before  him,  and  apparatus  of  all  descriptions  around.  The 
devil  has  entered  in  the  midst  of  his  speculations,  dressed  in 
black  like  a  professor,  and  stands  waiting  the  decision  of  Faust, 
who  gazes  intently  on  the  manuscript  held  in  his  hand.  His 
fingers  are  clenched,  his  eyes  start  from  his  head,  his  feet  are 
braced,  and  the  devil  eyes  him  with  a>  side  glance,  in  which 
malignity  and  satisfaction  are  admirably  mingled.  The  features 
of  Faust,  are  emaciated,  and  show  the  agitation  of  his  soul  very 
powerfully.  The  points  of  his  compasses,  globes,  and  instru 
ments,  emit  electric  sparks  toward  the  infernal  visiter  ;  his  lamp 
burns  blue,  and  the  picture  altogether  has  the  most  diabolical 
effect.  It  is  quite  a  large  painting,  and  just  below,  by  the  same 
artist,  hangs  a  small,  simple,  sweet  Madonna.  It  is  a  singular 
contrast  in  subjects  by  the  same  hand. 

A  portrait  of  the  Princess  Esterhazy,  by  Angelica  Kauffman — 
a  beautiful  woman,  painted  in  the  pure,  touching  style  of  that 
interesting  artist. 
7 


146  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

Then  comes  a  Cleopatra  dropping  the  p*arl  into  the  cup.  How 
often,  and  how  variously,  and  how  admirably  always,  the 
Egyptian  queen  is  painted !  I  never  have  seen  an  indifferent 
one.  In  this  picture  the  painter  seems  to  have  lavished  all  he 
could  conceive  of  female  beauty  upon  his  subject.  She  is  a 
glorious  creature.  It  reminds  me  of  her  own  proud  description 
of  herself,  when  she  is  reproaching  Antony  to  one  of  her  maids, 
in  "  The  False  One"  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  :— 


'  To  prefer 


The  lustre  of  a  little  trash,  Arsinoe, 
Before  the  life  of  love  and  soul  of  beauty  /" 

I  have  marked  a  great  many  pictures  in  this  collection  I  can 

not  describe  without  wearying  you,  yet  I  feel  unwilling  to  let 

them   go  by.     A  female,  representing  religion,  feeding   a  dove 

from  a  cup,  a  most  lovely  thing  by  Guido ;  portraits  of  Gerard 

Douwand  Rembrandt,  by  themselves  ;  Rubens'  children,  a  boy 

and  girl  ten   or   twelve  years   of  age,  one  of  the  most  finished 

paintings     I    ever    saw,    and    entirely    free    from    the   common 

dropsical    style   of  coloring  of  this   artist ;   another   portrait   of 

Giorgione^  wife,  the  fiftieth  that  I  have  seen,  at  least,  yet  a  face 

of  which  one  would   never  become  weary  ;  a  glowing  landscape 

by  Fischer,  the  first  by  this  celebrated  artist  I  have  met  ;  and  last 

(for  this  is  mere  catalogue-making),  a  large  picture  representing 

the  sitting  of  the  English  parliament  in  the  time  of  Pitt.     It 

contains  about  a  hundred  portraits,  among  which  those  of  Pitt 

and    Fox    are    admirable.       The    great    prime    minister    stands 

speaking  in  the  foreground,  and  Fox  sits  on  the  opposite  side  of 

the  house  listening  attentively  with  half  a  smile  on  his  features 

It  is  a  curious  picture  to  find  in  Vienna. 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  147 


One  thing  more,  however — a  Venus,  by  Lampi.  It  kept  me  a 
great  while  before  it.  She  lies  asleep  on  a  rich  couch,  and, 
apparently  in  her  dream,  is  pressing  a  rose  to  her  bosom,  while 
one  delicate  foot,  carelessly  thrown  back,  is  half  imbedded  in  a 
superb  cushion  supporting  a  crown  and  sceptre.  It  is  a  lie,  by 
all  experience.  The  moral  is  false,  but  the  picture  is  delicious. 


LETTER  XVI, 

Departure  from  Vienna— The  Ell-Wagon— Motley  quality  of  the  passengers-Thunder- 
Btorm  in  the  Mountains  of  Styria— Trieste— Short  beds  of  the  Germans— Grotto  of 
Adelsburgh— Curious  Bail-Room  in  the  Cavern— Nautical  preparations  for  a  Dance  on 
board  the  '•  United  States"  swept  away  by  the  Bora— Its  successful  termination. 

I  LEFT  Vienna  at  daylight  in  a  diligence  nearly  as  capacious 
as  a  steamboat — inaptly  called  the  ett- wagon.  A  Friuli  count, 
with  a  y>ai»-  of  cavalry  luustacbus,  his  wife,  a  pretty  Viennese  of 
eighteen,  scarce  married  a  year,  two  fashionable-looking  young 
Russians,  an  Austrian  midshipman,  a  fat  Gratz  lawyer,  a  trader 
from  the  Danube,  and  a  young  Bavarian  student,  going  to  seek  his 
fortune  in  Egypt,  were  my  companions.  The  social  habits  of 
continental  travellers  had  given  me  thus  much  information  by  the 
end  of  the  first  post. 

We  drove  on  with  German  regularity,  three  days  and  three 
nights,  eating  four  meals  a-day  (and  very  good  ones),  and 
improving  hourly  in  our  acquaintance.  The  Russians  spoke  all 
our  languages.  The  Friulese  and  the  Bavarian  spoke  everything 
but  English,  and  the  lady,  the  trader,  and  the  Gratz  avocat,  were 
confined  to  their  vernacular.  It  was  a  pretty  idea  of  Babel 
when  the  conversation  became  general. 

We  were  coursino-  the  bank  of  a  river,  in  one  of  the  romantic 


SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.  149 

passes  of  the  mountains  of  Styria,  with  a  dark  thunder-storm 
gathering  on  the  summit  of  a  crag  overhanging  us.  I  was 
pointing  out  to  one  of  my  companions  a  noble  ruin  of  a  castle 
seated  very  loftily  on  the  edge  of  one  of  the  precipices,  when  a 
streak  of  the  most  vivid  lightning  shot  straight  upon  the  northern 
most  turret,  and  the  moment  after  several  large  masses  rolled 
slowly  down  the  mountain-side.  It  was  so  like  the  scenery  in  a 
play,  that  I  looked  at  my  companion  with  half  a  doubt  that  it 
was  some  optical  delusion.  It  reminded  me  of  some  of  Martin's 
engravings.  The  sublime  is  so  well  imitated  in  our  day  that  one 
is  less  surprised  than  he  would  suppose  when  nature  produces 
the  reality. 

The  night  was  very  beautiful  when  we  reached  the  summit  of 
the  mountain  above  Trieste.  The  new  moon  silvered  the  little 
curved  bay  below  like  a  polished  shield,  and  right  in  the  path  of 
its  beams  lay  the  two  frigates  like  a  painting.  I  must  confess 
that  the  comfortable  cot  swinging  in  the  ward-room  of  the 
"  United  States"  was  the  prominent  thought  in  my  mind  as  I 
gazed  upon  the  scene.  The  fatigue  of  three  days  and  nights' 
hard  driving  had  dimmed  my  eye  for  the  picturesque.  Leaving 
my  companions  to  the  short  beds*  and  narrow  coverlets  of  a 
German  hotel,  I  jumped  into  the  first  boat  at  the  pier,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  was  alongside  the  ship.  How  musical  is  the  hail  of 
a  .sentry  in  one's  native  tongue,  after  a  short  habitation  to  the 
jargon  of  foreign  languages  !  "  Boat  ahoy  !"  It  made  my  heart 
leap.  The  officers  had  just  returned  from  Venice,  some  over 

*  A  German  bed  is  never  over  five  feet  in  length,  and  proportionably 
narrow.  The  sheets,  blankets,  and  coverlets,  are  cut  exactly  to  the  size  of 
the  bed's  surface,  so  that  there  is  no  tucking  up.  The  bed-clothes  seem  made 
for  cradles.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  a  tall  person  sleeps  in  them. 


150         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

land  by  the  Friuli,  and  some  by  the  steamer  through  the  gulf, 
and  were  sitting  round  the  table  laughing  with  professional 
merriment  over  their  various  adventures.  It  was  getting  back  to 
country  and  friends  and  home. 


I  accompanied  the  commodore's  family  yesterday  in  a  visit  to 
the  Grotto  of  Adelsburg.  It  is  about  thirty  miles  back  into  the 
Friuli  mountains,  near  the  province  of  Cariola.  We  arrived  at 
the  nearest  tavern  at  three  in  the  afternoon,  and  subscribing  our 
names  upon  the  magistrate's  books,  took  four  guides  and  the 
requisite  number  of  torches,  and  started  on  foot.  A  half  hour's 
walk  brought  us  to  a  large  rushing  stream,  which,  after  turning 
a  mill,  disappeared  with  violence  into  the  mouth  of  a  broad 
cavern,  sunk  in  the  base  of  a  mountain.  An  iron  gate  opened 
on  the  nearest  side^  and  lighting  our  torches,  we  received  an 
addition  of  half  a  dozen  men  to  our  party  of  guides,  and  entered. 
We  descended  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  through  a  capacious 
gallery  of  rock,  up  to  the  ancles  in  mud,  and  feeling  continually 
the  drippings  exuding  from  the  roof,  till  by  the  echoing  murmurs 
of  dashing  water  we  found  ourselves  approaching  the  bed  of  a 
subterraneous  river.  We  soon  -emerged  in  a  vast  cavern,  whose 
height,  though  we  had  twenty  torches,  was  lost  in  the  darkness. 
The  river  rushed  dimly  below  us,  at  the  depth  of  perhaps  fifty 
feet,  partially  illuminated  by  a  row  of  lamps,  hung  on  a  slight 
wooden  bridge  by  which  we  were  to  cross  to  the  opposite  side. 

We  descended  by  a  long  flight  of  artificial  stairs,  and  stood 
upon  the  bridge.  The  wildness  of  the  scene  is  indescribable. 
A  lamp  or  two  glimmered  faintly  from  the  lofty  parapet  from 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  151 


which  we  had  descended,  the  depth  and  breadth  of  the  sur 
rounding  cave  could  only  be  measured  by  the  distance  of  the 
echoes  of  the  waters,  and  beneath  us  leaped  and  foamed  a  dark 
river,  which  sprang  from  its  invisible  channel,  danced  a  moment 
in  the  faint  light  of  our  lamps,  and  was  lost  again  instantly  in 
darkness.  It  brought  with  it,  from  the  green  fields  through 
which  it  had  come,  a  current  of  soft  warm  air,  peculiarly 
delightful  after  the  chilliness  of  the  other  parts  of  the  cavern  ; 
there  was  a  smell  of  new-mown  hay  in  it  which  seemed  lost  in 
the  tartarean  blackness  around. 

Our  guides  led  on,  and  we  mounted  a  long  staircase  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  bridge.  At  the  head  of  it  stood  a  kind  of 
monument,  engraved  with  the  name  of  the  emperor  of  Austria, 
by  whose  munificence  the  staircase  had  been  cut  and  the 
conveniences  for  strangers  provided.  We  turned  hence  to  the 
right,  and  entered  a  long  succession  of  natural  corridors,  roofed 
with  stalactites,  with  a  floor  of  rock  and  mud,  and  so  even  and 
wide  that  the  lady  under  my  protection  had  seldom  occasion  to 
leave  my  arm.  In  the  narrowest  part  of  it,  the  stalactites 
formed  a  sort  of  reversed  grove,  with  the  roots  in  the  roof. 
They  were  of  a  snowy  white,  and  sparkled  brilliantly  in  the  light 
of  the  torches.  One  or  two  had  reached  the  floor,  and  formed 
slender  and  beautiful  sparry  columns,  upon  which  the  names  of 
hundreds  of  visitors  were  written  in  pencil. 

The  spars  grew  white  as  we  proceeded,  and  we  were  con 
stantly  emerging  into  large  halls  of  the  size  of  handsome  drawing- 
rooms,  whose  glittering  roofs,  and  sides  lined  with  fantastic 
columns,  seemed  like  the  brilliant  frost-work  of  a  crystallized 
cavern  of  ice.  Some  of  the  accidental  formations  of  the 
stalagmites  were  very  curious.  One  large  area  was  filled  with 


152          SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


them  of  the  height  of  small  plants.  It  was  called  by  the  guides 
the  u  English  Garden."  At  the  head  of  another  saloon,  stood  a 
throne,  with  a  stalactite  canopy  above  it,  s-o  like  the  work  of 
art,  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  sculptor  had  but  left  the  finishing 
undone. 

We  returned  part  of  the  'way  we  had  come,  and  took  another 
branch  of  the  grotto,  a  little  more  on  the  descent.  A  sign  above 
informed  us  that  it  was  the  "  road  to  the  infernal  regions."  We 
walked  on  an  hour  at  a  quick  pace,  stopping  here  and  there  to 
observe  the  oddity  of  the  formations.  In  one  place,  the  stalactites 
had  enclosed  a  room,  leaving  only  small  openings  between  the 
columns,  precisely  lik  •  the  grating  of  a  prison.  In  another,  the 
ceiling  lifted  out  of  the  reach  of  torch-light,  and  far  above  us  we 
heard  the  deep-toned  beat  as  upon  a  muffled  bell.  It  was  a  thin 
circular  .sheet  of  spar,  called  u  the  bell,"  to  which  one  of  the 
guides  had  mounted,  sti iking  upon  it  with  a  billet  of  wood. 

We  came  after  a  while  to  a  deeper  descent,  which  opened  into 
a  magnificent  and  spacious  hall.  It  is  called  "  the  ball-room," 
and  used  as  such  once  a  year,  on  the  occasion  of  a  certain  lilyrian 
festa.  The  floor  has  been  cleared  of  stalagmites,  the  roof  and 
sides  are  ornamented  beyond  all  art  with  glittering  spars,  a 
natural  gallery  with  a  balustrade  of  stalactites  contains  t;>o 
u.clu'Stra,  and  side-rooms  are  all  around  where  supper  might  be 
iai  1,  and  dressing-rooms  offered  in  the  style  of  a  palace.  I  can 
imagine  nothing  more  magnificent  than  such  a  scene.  A  literal 
description  of  it  even  would  read  like  a  fairy  tale. 

A  little  farther  on,  we  came  to  a  perfect  representation  of  a 
waterfall.  The  impregnated  water  had  fallen  on  a  declivity,  and 
with  a  slightly  ferruginous  tinge  of  yellow,  poured  over  in  the 
most  natural  resemblance  to  a  cascade  after  a  rain.  We  pro- 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  153 


ceeded  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  and  found  a  small  room  like  a 
chapel,  with  a  pulpit,  in  which  stood  one  of  the  guides,  who  gave 
us,  as  we  stood  beneath,  an  Illyrian  exhortation.  There  was  a 
sounding-board  above,  and  I  have  seen  pulpits  in  old  gorhic 
churches  that  seemed  at  a  first  glance,  to  have  less  method  in  their 
architecture.  The  last  thing  we  reached,  was  the  most  beautiful. 
From  the  cornice  of  a  lung  gallery,  hung  a  thin,  translucent 
sheet  of  spar,  in  the  graceful  and  waving  folds  of  a  curtain  ; 
with  a  lamp  behind,  the  hand  could  be  seen  through  any 
part  of  it.  It  was  perhaps  twenty  feet  in  length,  and  hung  five 
or  six  feet  down  from  the  roof  of  the  cavern.  The  most  singular 
part  of  it  was  the  fringe.  A  ferruginous  stain  ran  through  it 
from  one  end  to  the  other,  with  the  exactness  of  a  drawn  line, 
and  thence  to  the  curving  edge  a  most  delicate  rose-teint  faded 
gradually  down  like  the  last  flush  of  sunset  through  a  silken 
curtain.  Had  it  been  a  work  of  art,  done  in  alabaster,  and 
stained  with  the  pencil,  it  would  have  been  thought  admirable. 

The  guide  wished  us  to  proceed,  but  our  feet  were  wet,  and 
the  air  of  the  cavern  was  too  chill.  We  were  at  leasts/bur  miles , 
they  told  us,  from  the  entrance,  having  walked  briskly  for 
upward  of  two  hours.  The  grotto  is  said  to  extend  ten  miles 
under  the  mountains,  and  has  never  been  thoroughly  explored. 
Parties  have  started  with  provisions,  and  passed  forty-eight  hours 
in  it  without  finding  the  extremity.  It  seems  to  me  that  any  city 
I  ever  taw  might  be  concealed  in  its  caverns.  I  have  often  tried 
to  conceive  of  the  grottoes  of  Antiparos,  and  the  celebrated 
caverns  of  our  own  country,  but  I  received  here  an  entirely  new 
idea  of  the  possibility  of  space  under  ground.  There  is  no 
conceiving  it  unseen.  The  river  emerges  on  the  other  side  of 
the  mountain,  seven  or  eight  miles  from  its  first  entrance. 
7* 


154         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

We  supped  and  slept  at  the  little  albergo  of  the  village,  and 
returned  the  next  day  to  an  early  dinner. 


TRIESTE. — A  ball  on  board  the  United  States.  The  guns 
were  run  out  of  the  ports  ;  the  main  and  mizen-masts  were  wound 
with  red  and  white  bunting  ;  the  capstan  was  railed  with  arms 
and  wreathed  with  flowers  ;  the  wheel  was  tied  with  nosegays ; 
the  American  eagle  stood  against  the  mainmast,  with  a  star  of 
midshipmen's  swords  glittering  above  it  ;  festoons  of  evergreens 
were  laced  through  the  rigging  ;  the  companion-way  was  arched 
with  hoops  of  green  leaves  and  roses  ;  the  decks  were  tastefully 
chalked  ;  the  commodore's  skylight  was  piled  with  cushions  and 
covered  with  red  damask  for  an  ottoman  ;  seats  were  laid  along 
from  one  carronade  to  the  other  ;  and  the  whole  was  enclosed 
with  a  temporary  tent  lined  throughout  with  showy  flajrs,  and 
studded  all  over  with  bouquets  of  all  the  flowers  of  Illyria. 
Chandeliers  made  of  bayonets,  battle-lanterns,  and  candles  in  any 
quantity,  were  disposed  all  over  the  hall.  A  splendid  supper  was 
set  out  on  the  gun-deck  below,  draped  in  with  flags.  Our  own 
and  the  Constellation's  boats  were  to  be  at  the  pier  at  nine 
o'clock  to  bring  off  the  ladies,  and  at  noon  every  thing  promised 
of  the  brightest. 

First,  about  four  in  the  afternoon,  came  up  a  saucy-looking 
cloud  from  the  westernmost  peak  of  the  Friuli.  Then  followed 
from  every  point  toward  the  north,  an  extending  edge  of  a  broad 
solid  black  sheet  which  rose  with  the  regularity  of  a  curtain,  and 
began  to  send  down  a  wind  upon  us  which  made  us  look  anxiously 
to  our  ball-room  bowlines.  The  midshipmen  were  all  forward, 
watching  it  from  the  forecastle.  The  lieutenants  were  in  the 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  155 


gangway,  watching  it  from  the  ladder.  The  commodore  looked 
seriously  out  of  the  larboard  cabin  port.  It  was  as  grave  a 
ship's  company  as  ever  looked  out  for  a  shipwreck. 

The  country  about  Trieste  is  shaped  like  'a  bellows,  and  the 
city  and  harbor  lie  in  the  nose.  They  have  a  wind  that  comes 
down  through  the  valley,  called  the  "  bora,"  which  several  times 
in  tiiu  yo«u-  is  strong  cuou_li  to  lift  people  from  their  feet.  We 
could  see,  by  the  clouds  of  dust  on  the  mountain  roads,  that  it 
was  coming.  At  six  o'clock  the  shrouds  began  to  creak  ;  the 
white  tops  flew  from  the  waves  in  showers  of  spray,  and  the  roof 
of  our  sea- palace  began  to  shiver  in  the  wind.  There  was  no 
more  hope.  We  had  waited  even  too  long.  All  hands  were 
called  to  take  down  the  chandeliers,  sword-stars,  and  ottomans, 
and  before  it  was  half  done,  the  storm  was  upon  us  ;  the  bunting 
was  flying  and  flapping,  the  nicely-chalked  decks  were  swashed 
with  rain,  and  strown  with  leaves  of  flowers,  and  the  whole  struc 
ture,  the  taste  and  labor  of  the  ship's  company  for  two  days,  was 
a  watery  wreck. 

Lieutenant  C ,  who  had  had  the  direction  of  the  whole, 

was  the  officer  of  the  deck.  He  sent  for  his  pea-jacket,  and 
leaving  him  to  pace  out  his  watch  among  the  ruins  of  his  imagi 
nation,  we  went  below  to  get  early  to  bed,  and  forgot  our  disap 
pointment  in  sleep. 

'The  next  morning  the  sun  rose  without  a  veil.  The  "  blue 
Friuli"  looked  clear  and  fresh  ;  the  southwest  wind  came  over 
softly  from  the  shore  of  Italy,  and  we  commenced  retrieving  our 
disaster  with  elastic  spirit.  Nothing  had  suffered  seriously  except 
the  flowers,  and  boats  were  despatched  ashore  for  fresh  supplies, 
while  the  awnings  were  lifted  higher  and  wider  than  before,  the 
bright-colored  flags  replaced,  the  arms  polished  and  arranged  in 


156         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

improved  order,  and  the  decks  re-chalked  with  new  devices.  At 
six  in  the  evening  everything  was  swept  up,  and  the  ball-room 
astonished  even  ourselves.  It  was  the  prettiest  place  for  a  dance 
in  the  world. 

The  ship  has  an  admirable  band  of  twenty  Italians  collected 
from  Naples  and  other  ports,  and  a  fanciful  orchestra  was  raised 
for  them  on  the  larboard  side  of  the  mainmast.  They  struck  up 
a  march  as  the  first  boatful  of  ladies  stepped  upon  the  deck,  and 
in  the  course  of  half  an  hour  the  waltzing  commenced  with  at 
least  two  hundred  couples,  while  the  ottoman  and  seats  under  the 
hammock-cloths  were  filled  with  spectators.  The  frigate  has  a 
lofty  poop,  and  there  was  room  enough  upon  it  for  two  quadrille? 
after  it  had  served  as  a  reception-room.  It  was  edged  with  a 
temporary  balustrade,  wreathed  with  flowers  and  studded  with 
lights,  and  the  cabin  beneath  (on  a  level  with  the  main  ball 
room),  was  set  out  with  card-tables.  From  the  gangway 
entrance,  the  scene  was  like  a  brilliant  theatrical  ballet. 

An  amusing  part  of  it  was  the  sailors'  imitation  on  the 
forward  decks.  They  had  taken  the  waste  shrubbery  and  ever 
greens,  of  which  there  was  a  great  quantity,  and  had  formed  a 
sort  of  grove,  extending  all  round.  It  was  arched  with  festoons 
of  leaves,  with  quantities  of  fruit  tied  among  them  ;  and  over  the 
entrance  was  suspended  a  rough  picture  of  a  frigate  with  the 
inscription,  "  Free  trade  and  sailors'1  rights."  The  forecastle 
was  ornamented  with  cutlasses,  and  one  or  two  nautical  trarispar- 
encii'S,  with  pistols  and  miniature  ships  interspersed,  and  the 
whole  lit  up  handsomely.  The  men  were  dressed  in  their  white 
duck  trowsers  and  blue  jackets,  and  sat  round  on  the  guns  play 
ing  at  draughts,  or  listening  to  the  music,  or  gazing  at  the  ladies 
constantly  promenading  fore  and  aft,  and  to  me  this  was  one  of 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  157 

the    most   interesting   parts    of    the    spectacle.     Five   hundred 
weather-beaten  and  manly  faces  are  a  fine  sight  anywhere. 

The  dance  went  gaily  on.  The  reigning  belle  was  an  Ameri 
can,  but  we  had  lovely  women  of  all  nations  among  our  guests. 
There  are  several  wealthy  Jewish  families  in  Trieste,  and  their 
dark-eyed  daughters,  we  may  say  at  this  distance,  are  full  of  the 
thoughtful  loveliness  peculiar  to  the  race.  Then  we  had  Illyri- 
ans  and  Germans,  and — Terpsichore  be  our  witness — how  they 
danced!  My  travelling  companion,  the  Count  of  Friuli,  was 
there  ;  and  his  little  Viennese  wife,  though  she  spoke  no  Chris 
tian  language,  danced  as  featly  as  a  fairy.  Of  strangers  passing 
through  the  Trieste,  we  had  several  of  distinction.  Among 
them  was  a  fascinating  Milanese  marchioness,  a  relative  of  Man- 
zoni's,  the  novelist  (and  as  enthusiastic  and  eloquent  a  lover  of 
her  country  as  I  ever  listened  to  on  the  subject  of  oppressed 
Italy),  and  two  handsome  young  men,  the  counts  Neipperg,  sons- 
in-law  to  Maria  Louisa,  who  amused  themselves  as  if  they  had 
seen  nothing  better  in  the  little  duchy  of  Parma. 

We  went  below  at  midnight,  to  supper,  and  the  ladies  came  up 
with  renewed  spirit  to  the  dance.  It  was  a  brilliant  scene 
indeed.  The  officers  of  both  ships,  in  full  uniform,  the  gentle 
men  from  shore,  mostly  military,  in  full  dress,  the  gayety  of  the 
bright  red  bunting,  laced  with  white  and  blue,  and  studded, 
wherever  they  would  stand,  with  flowers,  and  the  really  uncommon 
number  of  beautiful  women,  with  the  foreign  features  and  com 
plexions  so  rich  and  captivating  to  our  eyes,  produced  altogether 
an  « ffect  unsurpassed  by  any  thing  I  have  ever  seen  even  at  the 
court  fetes  of  Europe.  The  daylight  gun  fired  at  the  close  of  a 
galopade,  and  the  crowded  boats  pulled  ashore  with  their  lovely 
freight  by  the  broad  light  of  morning. 


LETTER   XVII 

Trieste,  its  Extensive  Commerce— Hospitality  of  Mr.  Moore— Euins  of  Pola— Immense 
Amphitheatre— Village  of  Pola— Coast  of  Dalmatia,  of  Apulia  and  Calabria -Otraa  to— 
Sails  for  the  Isles  of  Greece. 

TRIESTE  is  certainly  a  most  agreeable  place.  Its  streets  are 
beautifully  paved  and  clean,  its  houses  new  and  well  built,  and 
its  shops  as  handsome  and  as  well  stocked  with  every  variety  of 
things  as  those  of  Paris.  Its  immense  commerce  brings  all 
nations  to  its  port,  and  it  is  quite  the  commercial  centre  of  the 
continent.  The  Turk  smokes  cross-legged  in  the  cafe,  the  Eng 
lish  merchant  has  his  box  in  the  country  and  his  snug  establish 
ment  in  town,  the  Italian  has  his  opera  and  his  wife  her  cavalier, 
the  Yankee  captain  his  respectable  boarding-house,  and  the 
German  bis  four  meals  a  day  at  a  hotel  dyed  brown  with  tobacco. 
Every  nation  is  at  home  in  Trieste. 

The  society  is  beyond  what  is  common  in  a  European  mercan 
tile  city.  The  English  are  numerous  enough  to  support  a 
church,  and  the  circle  of  which  our  hospitable  consul  is  the 
centre,  is  one  of  the  most  refined  and  agreeable  it  has  been  my 
happiness  to  meet.  The  friends  of  Mr.  Moore  have  pressed 
every  possible  civility  and  kindness  upon  the  commodore  and  his 
officers,  and  his  own  house  has  been  literally  our  home  on  shore 


SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.  159 

It  is  the  curse  of  this  volant  life,  otherwise  so  attractive,  that  its 
frequent,  partings  are  bitter  in  proportion  to  its  good  fortune. 
We  make  friends  but  to  lose  them. 

We  got  under  way  with  a  light  breeze  this  morning,  and 
stole  gently  out  of  the  bay.  The  remembrance  of  a  thou 
sand  kindnesses  made  our  anchors  lift  heavily.  We  waved  our 
handkerchiefs  to  the  consul,  whose  balconies  were  filled  with  his 
charming  family  watching  our  departure,  and,  with  a  freshening 
wind,  disappeared  around  the  point,  and  put  up  our  helm  for 
Pola. 


The  ruins  of  Pola,  though  among  the  first  in  the  world,  are 
seldom  visited.  They  lie  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  Adriatic, 
at  the  head  of  a  superb  natural  bay,  far  from  any  populous 
town,  and  are  seen  only  by  the  chance  trader  who  hugs  the 
shore  for  the  land-breeze,  or  the  Albanian  robber  who  looks 
down  upon  them  with  wonder  from  the  mountains.  What  their 
age  is  I  caimot  say  nearly.  The  country  was  conquered  by  the 
Romans  about  one  hundred  years  before  the  time  of  our  Savior 
and  the  amphitheatre  and  temples  were  probably  erected  soon 
after. 
•  We  ran  into  the  bay,  with  the  other  frigate  close  astern,  and 

|  anchored  off  a  small  green  island  which  shuts  in  the  inner 
harbor.  There  is  deep  water  up  to  the  ancient  town  on  either 
side,  and  it  seems  as  if  nature  had  amused  herself  with  construct- 

'  ing  a  harbor  incapable  of  improvement.  Pola  lay  about  two  miles 
from  the  sea. 

It  was  just  evening,  and  we  deferred  our  visit  to  the  ruins  till 
morning.     The  majestic  amphitheatre  stood  on  a  gentle  ascent, 


160         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


a  mile  from  the  ship,  goldenly  bright  in  the  flush  of  sunset ;  the 
pleasant  smell  of  the  shore  stole  over  the  decks,  and  the  bands 
of  the  two  frigates  played  alternately  the  evening  through.  The 
i  eceding  mountains  of  Istria  changed  their  light  blue  veils  grad 
ually  to  gray  and  sable,  and  with  the  pure  stars  of  these  enchanted 
seas,  and  the  shell  of  a  new  moon  bending  over  Italy  in  the  west, 
it  was  such  a  night  as  one  remembrances  like  a  friend.  The 
Constellation  was  to  part  from  us  here,  leaving  us  to  pursue  our 
voyage  to  Greece.  There  were  those  on  board  who  had  bright 
ened  many  of  our  "  hours  ashore,"  in  these  pleasant  wanderings. 
We  pulled  back  to  our  own  ship,  after  a  farewell  visit,  with 
regrets  deepened  by  crowds  of  pleasant  remembrances. 

The  next  morning  we  pulled  ashore  to  the  ruins.  The  amphi 
theatre  was  close  upon  the  sea,  and,  to  my  surprise  and  pleasure, 
there  was  no  cicerone.  A  contemplative  donkey  was  grazing 
under  the  walls,  but  there  was  no  other  living  creature  near. 
We  looked  at  its  vast  circular  wall  with  astonishment.  The 
coliseum  at  Rome,  a  larger  building  of  the  same  description,  is, 
from  the  outside,  much  less  imposing.  The  whole  exterior  wall, 
a  circular  pile  one  hundred  feet  high  in  front,  and  of  immense 
blocks  of  marble  and  granite,  is  as  perfect  as  when  the  Roman 
workman  hewed  the  last  stone.  The  interior  has  been  nearly  all 
removed.  The  well-hewn  blocks  of  the  many  rows  of  seats  were 
too  tempting,  like  those  of  Rome,  to  the  barbarians  who  were 
building  near.  The  circle  of  the  arena,  in  which  the  gladiators 
and  wild  beasts  of  these  then  new-conquered  provinces  fought,  is 
still  marked  by  the  foundations  of  its  barrier.  It  measures  two 
hundred  and  twenty-three  feet.  Beneath  it  is  a  broad  and  deep 
canal,  running  toward  the  sea,  filled  with  marble  columns,  still 
erect  upon  their  pedestals,  used  probably  for  the  introduction  of 


ON   BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE. 


water  for  the  naumachia.  The  whole  circumference  of  the 
amphitheatre  is  twelve  hundred  and  fifty-six  feet,  and  the  thick 
ness  of  the  exterior  wall  seven  feet  six  inches.  Its  shape  is 
oblong,  the  length  being  four  hundred  and  thirty-six  feet,  and  the 
breadth  three  hundred  and  fifty.  The  measurements  were  taken 
by  the  captain's  orders,  and  are  doubtless  critically  correct. 

We  loitered  about  the  ruins  several  hours,  finding  in  every 
direction  the  remains  of  the  dilapidated  interior.  The  sculpture 
upon  the  fallen  capitals  and  fragments  of  frieze  was  in  the  high 
est  style  of  ornament.  The  arena  is  overgrown  with  rank  grass, 
and  the  crevices  in  the  walls  are  filled  with  flowers.  A  vineyard, 
with  its  large  blue  grape  just  within  a  week  of  ripeness,  encircles 
the  rear  of  the  amphitheatre.  The  boat's  crew  were  soon 
among  them,  much  better  amused  than  they  could  have  been  by 
all  the  antiquities  iu  Istria. 

We  walked  i';om  the  amphitheatre  to  the  town  ;  a  miserable 
village  built  ruouiid  two  antique  temples,  one  of  which  still 
stands  alone,  with  its  fine  Corinthian  columns,  looking  just  ready 
to  crumble.  The  other  is  incorporated  barbarously  with  the 
guard-house  of  the  place,  and  is  a  curious  mixture  of  beautiful 
sculpture  and  dirty  walls.  The  pediment,  which  is  still  perfect, 
in  the  rear  of  the  building,  is  a  piece  of  carving,  worthy  of  the 
choicest  cabinet  of  Europe.  The  thieveries  from  the  amphithe 
atre  are  easily  detected.  There  is  scarce  a  beggar's  house  in  the 
village,  that  does  not  show  a  bit  or  two  of  sculptural  marble  upou 
its  front. 

At  the  end  of  the  village  stands  a  triumphal  arch,  recording 
the  conquests  of  a  Roman  consul.  Its  front,  toward  the  town, 
is  of  Parian  marble,  beautifully  chiselled.  One  recognizes  the 
solid  magnificence  of  that  glorious  nation,  when  ho  looks  on  these 


162  SUMMER  CRULSE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


relics  of  their  distant  conquests,  almost  perfect  after  eighteen 
hundred  years.  It  seems  as  if  the  foot-print  of  a  Roman  were 
eternal. 

We  stood  out  of  the  little  bay,  and  with  a  fresh  wind,  ran 
down  the  coast  of  Dalmatia,  and  then  crossing  to  the  Italian  side, 
kept  down  the  ancient  shore  of  Apulia  and  Calabria  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Adriatic.  I  have  been  looking  at  the  land  with  the 
glass,  as  we  ran  smoothly  along,  counting  castle  after  castle  built 
boldly  on  the  sea,  and  behind  them,  on  the  green  hills,  the 
thickly  built  villages  with  their  smoking  chimneys  and  tall 
spires,  pictures  of  fertility  and  peace.  It  was  upon  these  shores 
that  the  Barbary  corsairs  descended  so  often  during  the  last 
century,  carrying  off  for  eastern  harems,  the  lovely  women  of 
Italy.  We  are  just  off  Otranto,  and  a  noble  old  castle  stands 
frowning  from  the  extremity  of  the  Cape.  We  could  throw  a 
shot  into  its  embrasures  as  we  pass.  It  might  be  the  u  Castle  of 
Otranto,"  for  the  romantic  locks  it  has  from  the  sea. 

We  have  out-sailed  the  Constellation,  or  we  should  part  from 
her  here.  Her  destination  is  France  ;  and  we  should  ba  to 
morrow  amid  the  Aisles  of  Greece.  The  pleasure  of  realizing 
the  classic  dreams  of  one's  boyhood,  is  not  to  be  expressed  i-i  a 
line.  I  look  forward  to  the  succeeding  month  or  two  as  to  the 
L  :•  d-letter"  chapter  of  my  life.  Whatever  I  may  find  the 
, . -a.i-.y,  my  heart  has  glowed  warmly  and  delightfully  with  the 
anticipation.  Commodore  Patterson  is,  fortunately  for  me,  a 
scholar  and  a  judicious  lover  of  the  arts,  and  loses  no  opportu 
nity,  consistently  with  his  duty,  to  give  his  officers  the  means  of 

*  It  was  to  this  point  (the  ancient  Hydranttim)  that  Pyrrhus  proposed  to 
build  a  bridge  from  Greece — only  sixty  miles  !  He  deserved  to  ride  on  an 
elephant. 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN  FRIGATE. 


examining  the  curious  and  the  beautiful  in  these  interesting  seas. 
The  cruise,  thus  far,  has  been  one  of  continually  mingled  pleas 
ure  and  instruction,  and  the  best  of  it,  by  every  association  of 
our  early  days,  is  to  come. 


LETTER  XYII1, 

The  Ionian  Isles — Lord  and  Lady  Nugent — Corfu — Greek  and  English  Soldiers— Cock- 
neyism— The  Gardens  of  Alcinous— English  Officers— Albanians— Dionisio  Salomos,  the 
Greek  Poet— Greek  Ladies— Dinner  with  the  Artillery  Mess. 

THIS  is  proper  dream-land.  The  "  Isle  of  Calypso,"*  folded 
in  a  drapery  of  blue  air,  lies  behind,  fading  in  the  distance,  u  the 
Acroceraunian  mountains  of  old  name,"  which  caught  Byron's 
eye  as  he  entered  Greece,  are  piled  up  before  us  on  the  Albanian 
shore,  and  the  Ionian  sea  is  rippling  under  our  bow,  breathing, 
from  every  wave,  of  Homer,  and  Sappho,  and  "sad  Penelope." 
Once  more  upon  Childe  Harold's  footsteps.  I  closed  the  book  at 
Rome,  after  following  him  for  a  summer  through  Italy,  confess 
ing,  by  many  pleasant  recollections,  that 

u  Not  in  vain 
He  wore  his  sandal  shoon,  and  scallop  shell." 

I  resume  it  here,  with  the  feeling  of  Thalaba  when  he  caught 
sight  of  the  green  bird  that  led  him  through  the  desert.  It  lies 
open  on  my  knee  at  the  second  canto,  describing  our  position, 
even  to  the  hour  : 

*  Fano,  which  disputes  it  with  Gozo,  near  Malta. 


SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN.  165 


''  ;T\vas  on  a  Grecian  autumn's  gentle  eve 
Childe  Harold  hailed  Leucadia's  cape  afar ; 
A  spot  he  longed  to  see,  nor  cared  to  leave." 

"VVe  shall  lie  off-and-on  to-night,  and  go  in  to  Corfu  in  the  morn 
ing.  Two  Turkish  vessels-of-war,  with  the  crescent  flag  flying, 
lie  in  a  small  cove  a  mile  off,  on  the  Albanian  shore,  and  by  the 
discharge  of  musketry  our  pilot  presumes  that  they  have  accom 
panied  the  sultan's  tax-gatherer,  who  gets  nothing  from  these  wild 
people  without  fighting  for  it. 


The  entrance  {  Co  'u  is  considered  pretty,  but  the  English 
flag  flying  over  the  torts,  divested  ancient  Corcyra  of  its  poetical 
associations,  It  looked  to  me  a  common-place  seaport,  glaring  in 
the  sun.  The  "  Gardens  of  Alcinous"  were  here,  but  who  could 
imagine  them,  with  a  red-coated  sentry  posted  on  every  corner 
of  the.  island. 


The  lord  high  commissioner  of  the  Ionian  Isles,  Lord  Nugent, 
came  off  to  the  ship  this  morning  in  a  kind  of  Corfiate  boat, 
called  a  Scampavia,  a  greyhound-looking  craft,  carrying  sail 
enough  for  a  schooner.  She  cut  the  water  like  the  wing  of  a 
swallow.  His  lordship  was  playing  sailor,  and  was  dressed  like, 
the  mate  of  one  of  our  coasters,  and  his  manners  were  as  bluff. 
He  has  a  fine  person,  however,  and  is  said  to  be  a  very  elegant 
man  when  he  chooses  it.  He  is  the  author  of  the  "  Life  and 
Times  of  John  Hampden,"  and  Whig,  of  conrse.  Southey  has, 
lately  reviewed  him  rather  bitterly  in  the  Quarterly.  Lady  N. 
is  literary,  too,  and  they  have  written  between  them  a  book  of 


166         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN,' 


tales  called  (I  think)  "  Legends  of  the  Lilies,"  of  which  her  lady 
ship's  half  is  said  to  be  the  better. 


Went  on  shore  for  a  walk.  Greeks  and  English  soldiers  mis 
oddly  together.  The  streets  are  narrow,  and  crowded  with  them 
in  about  equal  proportions.  John  Bull  retains  his  red  face,  and 
learns  no  Greek.  We  passed  through  the  Bazar,  and  bad  Eng 
lish  was  the  universal  language.  There  is  but  one  square  in  the 

town,  and  round  its  wooden  fence,  enclosing  a  dusty  area,  with- 

i 
out  a  blade  of  grass,  were  riding  the  English  officers,  while  the 

regimental  band  played  in  the  centre.  A  more  arid  and  cheer 
less  spot  never  pained  the  eye.  The  appearance  of  the  officers, 
retaining  all  their  Bond  street  elegance  and  mounted  upon  Eng 
lish  hunters,  was  in  singular  contrast  with  the  general  shabbiness 
of  the  houses  and  people.  I  went  into  a  shop  at  a  corner  to  in 
quire  for  the  residence  of  a  gentleman  to  whom  I  had  a  letter. 
"  It's  werry  'ot,  sir,"  said  a  little  red-faced  woman  behind  the 
counter,  as  I  went  out,  "  perhaps  you'd  like  a  glass  of  ??ater." 
It  was  odd  to  hear  the  Wapping  dialect  in  the  "  isles  of  Greece." 
She  sold  green  groceries,  and  wished  me  to  recommend  her  to 
the  ^officers.  .Mrs.  Mary  FlacISs  "  grocery"  in  the  gardens  of 
Alcinous. 

"  The  wild  Albanian  kirtled  to  the  knee,"  walks  through  the 
streets  of  Corfu,  looking  unlike  and  superior  to  everything  about 
him.  I  met  several  in  returning  to  the  boat.  Their  gait  is  very 
lofty,  and  the  snow-white  juktanilla,  or  kirtle,  with,  its  thousand 
folds,  sways  from  side  to  side,  as  they  walk,  with  a  most  showy 
effect.  Lord  Byron  was  very  much  captivated  with  these  people, 
whose  capital  (just  across  the  strait  from  Corfu)  he  visited  once 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  167 


or  twice  in  his  travels  through  Greece.  Those  I  have  seen  are 
all  very  tall,  and  have  their  prominent  features,  with  keen  eyes 
and  limbs  of  the  most  muscular  proportions.  The  common  Eng 
lish  soldiers  look  like  brutes  beside  them. 

The  placard  of  a  theatre  hung  on  the  walls  of  a  church.  A 
rude  picture  of  a  battle  between  the  Greeks  and  Turks  hung 
above  it,  and  beneath  was  written,  in  Italian,  a  i-Jonor  the,  repre 
sentation  of  the  immortal  deeds  of  your  hero  JMarco  Bozzaris." 
It  is  singular  that  even  a  pack  of  slaves  can  find  pleasure  in  a 
remembrance  that  reproaches  every  breath  they  draw. 

k  Called  on  Lord  Nugent  with  the  commodore.  The  governor, 
sailor,  author,  antiquary,  nobleman  (for  he  is  all  these,  and  a 
jockey,  to  boot),  received  us  in  a  calico  morning  frock,  with  his 
breast  and  neck  bare,  in  a  large  library  lumbered  with  half- 
packed  antiquities  and  strewn  with  straw.  Books,  miniatures  of 
his  family  (a  lovely  one  of  Lady  Nugent  among  them),  Whig 
pamphlets,  riding-whips,  spurs,  minerals,  hammer  and  nails,  half- 
eaten  cakes,  plans  of  fortifications,  printed  invitations  to  his  own 
balls  and  dinners,  military  reports,  Turkish  pistols,  and,  lastly, 
his  own  just  printed  answer  to  Mr.  Southey's  review  of  his  book, 
occupied  the  table.  He  was  reading  his  own  production  when  we 
entered.  His  lordship  mentioned,  with  great  apparent  satisfac 
tion,  a  cruise  he  had  taken  some  years  ago  with  Commodore 
Chauncey.  The  conversation  was  rather  monologue  than  dia 
logue  ;  his  excellency  seeming  to  think,  with  Lord  Bacon,  that 
"  the  honorablest  part  of  talk  was  to  give  the  occasion,  and  then 
to  moderate  and  pass  to  something  else."  He  started  a  topic, 
exhausted  and  changed  it  with  the  same  facility  and  rapidity  with 
which  he  sailed  his  scampavia.  An  engagement  with  the  artillery- 
mess  prevented  my  acceptance  of  an  invitation  to  dine  with  him 


168          SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 


to-morrow,  a  circumstance  T  rather  regret,  as  he  is  said  to  be,  at 
his  own  table,  one  of  the  most  polished  and  agreeable  men  of  his 
time. 

Thank  Heaven,  revolutions  do  not  affect  the  climate  !  The 
isle  that  gave  a  shelter  to  the  storm-driven  Ulysses  is  an  English 
barrack,  but  the  same  balmy  air  that  fanned  the  blind  eyes  of  old 
Homer  blows  over  it  still.  "  The  breezes,"  says  Landor,  beauti 
fully,  "  are  the  children  of  eternity."  I  never  had  the  hair  lifted 
so  pleasantly  from  my  temples  as  to-night,  driving  into  the  inte 
rior  of  the  island.  The  gardening  of  Alcinous  seems  to  have 
been  followed  up  by  nature.  The  rhododendron,  the  tamarisk, 
the  almond,  cypress,  olive,  and  fig,  luxuriate  in  the  sweetest 
beauty  everywhere. 

There  was  a  small  party  in  the  evening  at  the  house  of  the 
gentleman  who  had  driven  me  out?  and  among  other  foreigners 
present  were  the  count  Dionisio  Salomos,  of  Zante,  and  the  Cava- 
liere  Andrea  Mustoxidi,  both  men  of  whom  I  had  often  heard. 
The  first  is  almost  the  only  modern  Greek  poet,  and  his  u  hymns," 
principally  patriotic,  are  in  the  common  dialect  of  the  country, 
and  said  to  be  full  of  fire.  He  is  an  excessively  handsome  man, 
with  large,  dark  eyes,  almost  effeminate  in  their  softness.  His  fea 
tures  are  of  the  clearest  Greek  chiselling,  as  faultless  as  a  statue, 
and  are  stamped  with  nature's  most  attractive  marks  of  refine 
ment  and  feeling.  I  can  imagine  Anacreon  to  have  resembled 
him. 

Mustoxidi  has  been  a  conspicuous  man  in  the  late  chapter  of 
Grecian  history.  He  was  much  trusted  by  Capo  d'Istria,  and 
among  other  things  had  the  whole  charge  of  his  school  at  Egiua. 
An  Italian  exile  (a  Modenese,  and  a  very  pleasant  fellow),  took 
rne  aside  when  I  asked  something  of  his  history,  and  told  me  a 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  169 


story  of  him,  which  proves  either  that  he  was  a  dishonest  man,  or 
(no  new  truth)  that  conspicuous  men  are  liable  to  be  abused. 
A  valuable  donation  of  books  was  given  by  some  one  to  the  school 
library.  They  stood  on  the  upper  shelves,  quite  out  of  reach, 
and  Mustoxidi  was  particular  in  forbidding  all  approach  to  them. 
Some  time  after  his  departure  from  -the  island,  the  library  was 
committed  to  the  charge  of  another  person,  and 'the  treasures  of 
the  upper  shelves  were  found  to  be — painted  boards  !  His 
physiognomy  would  rather  persuade  me  of  the  truth  of  the  story. 
He  is  a  small  man,  with  a  downcast  look,  and  a  sly,  gray  eye, 
almost  hidden  by  his  projecting  eyebrows.  His  features  are 
watched  in  vain  for  an  open  expression. 

The  ladies  of  the  party  were  principally  Greeks.  None  of 
them  were  beautiful,  but  they  had  the  melancholy,  retired  ex 
pression  of  face  which  one  looks  for,  knowing  the  history  of  their 
nation.  They  are  unwise  enough  to  abandon  their  picturesque 
national  costume,  and  dress  badly  in  the  European  style.  The 
servant-girls,  with  their  hair  braided  into  the  folds  of  their  tur 
bans,  and  their  open-laced  bodices  and  sleeves,  are  much  more 
attractive  to  the  stranger's  eye.  The  liveliest  of  the  party,  a  little 
Zantiote  girl  jof  eighteen,  with  eyes  and  eye-lashes  that  contra 
dicted  the  merry  laugh  on  her  lips,  sang  us  an  Albanian  song  to 
the  guitar,  very  sweetly. 


Dined  to-day  with  the  artillery-mess,  in  company  with  the 
commodore  and  some  of  his  officers.  In  a  place  like  this,  the 
dinner  is  naturally  the  great  circumstance  of  the  day.  The  in 
habitants  do  not  take  kindly  to  their  masters,  and  there  is  next 
to  no  society  for  the  English.  They  sit  down  to  their  soup  after 
8 


170         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  evening  drive,  and  seldom  rise  till  midnight.  It  was  a  gay 
dinner,  as  dinners  will  always  be  where  the  whole  remainder  of 
what  the  "  day  may  bring  forth"  is  abandoned  to  them,  and  we 
parted  from  our  hospitable  entertainers,  after  four  or  five  hours 
"measured  with  sands  of  gold."  We  must  do  the  English  the 
justice  of  confessing  the  manners  of  their  best  bred  men  to  be 
the  best  in  the  world.  It  is  inevitable  that  one  should  bear  the 
remainder  of  the  nation  little  love.  Neither  the  one  class  nor  the 
other,  doubtless,  will  ever  seek  it  at  our  hands.  But  mutual  hos 
pitality  may  soften  so  much  of  our  intercourse  as  happens  in 'the 
traveller's  way,  and  without  loving  John  Bull  better,  all  in  all, 
one  soon  finds  out  in  Europe  that  the  dog  and  the  lion  are  not 
more  unlike,  than  the  race  of  bagmen  and  runners  with  which 
our  country  is  overrun,  and  the  cultivated  gentlemen  of  England. 
On  my  right  sat  a  captain  of  the  corps,  who  had  spent  the  last 
summer  at  the  Saratoga  Springs.  We  found  any  number  of  mu 
tual  acquaintances,  of  course,  and  I  was  amused  with  the  impres 
sions  which  some  of  the  fairest  of  my  friends  had  made  upon  a 
man  who  had  passed  years  in  the  most  cultivated  society  of 
Europe.  He  liked  America  with  reservations.  He  preferred 
our  ladies  to  those  of  any  other  country  except  England,  and  he 
had  found  more  dandies  in  one  hour  in  Broadway  than  he  should 
have  met  in  a  week  in  Kegent-street.  He  gave  me  a  racy  scene 
or  two  from  the  City  Hotel,  in  New  York,  but  he  doubted  if  the 
frequenters  of  a  public  table  in  any  country  in  the  world  were,  on 
the  whole,  so  well-mannered.  If  Americans  were  peculiar  for 
anything,  he  thought  it  was  for  confidence  in  themselves  and 
tobacco-chewing. 


LETTER  XIX, 

Corfu — Unpopularity  of  British  Rule— Superstition  of  the  Greeks— Accuracy  of  the  De 
scriptions  in  the  Odyssey — Advantage  of  the  Greek  Costume — The  Paxian  Isles— Cape 
Leucas,  or  Sappho's  Leap — Bay  of  Navarino,  Ancient  Pylos — Modon — Goran's  Bay — 
Cape  St.  Angelo — Isle  of  Cythera. 

CORFU. — Called  on  one  of  the  officers  of  the  tenth  this  morn 
ing,  and  found  lying  on  his  table  two  books  upon  Corfu.  They 
were  from  the  circulating  library  of  the  town,  much  thumbed, 
and  contained  the  most  unqualified  strictures  on  the  English  ad 
ministration  in  the  islands.  In  one  of  them,  by  a  Count  or 
Colonel  Boig  de  Sf.  Vincent,  a  Frenchman,  the  Corfiotes  were 
taunted  with  their  slavish  submission,  and  called  upon  to  shake 
off  the  yoke  of  British  dominion  in  the  most  inflammatory  lan 
guage.  Such  books  in  Italy  or  France  would  be  burnt  by  tn» 
hangman,  and  prohibited  on  penalty  of  death.  Here,  v.H  : 
-haughty  consciousness  of  superiority,  which  must  be  <  alhn  • 
enough  to  an  Ionian  who  is  capable  of  feeling,  they  circulate  u:  - 
censured  in  two  languages,  and  the  officers  of  the  abused  govc1.  n- 
ment  read  them  for  their  amusement,  and  return  them  coolly  t  > 
go  their  rounds  among  the  people.  They  have  twenty-five  hun 
dred  troops  upon  the 'island,  and  they  trouble  themselves  little 
about  what  is  thought  of  them.  They  confess  that  their  govern- 


172  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


rnent  is  excessively  unpopular,  the  officers  are  excluded  from  the 
native  society,  and  the  soldiers  are  scowled  upon  in  the  streets 


The  body  of  St.  Spiridion  was  carried  through  the  streets  of 
Corfu  to-day,  sitting  bolt  upright  in  a  sedan  chair,  and  accom 
panied  by  the  whole  population.  lie  is  the  great  saint  of  the 
Greek  church,  and  such  is  his  influence,  that  the  English  govern 
ment  thought  proper,  under  Sir  Frederick  Adams'  administra 
tion,  to  compel  the  officers  to  walk  in  the  procession.  The  saint 
was  dried  at  his  death,  and  makes  a  neat,  black  mummy,  sans 
eyes  and  nose,  but  otherwise  quite  perfect.  He  was  carried  to 
day  by  four  men  in  a  very  splendid  sedan,  shaking  from  side  to 
side  with  the  motion,  preceded  by  one  of  the  bands  of  music 
from  the  English  regiments.  Sick  children  were  thrown  under 
the  feet  of  the  bearers,  half  dead  people  brought  to  the  doors  as 
he  passed,  and  every  species  of  disgusting  mummery  practiced. 
The  show  lasted  about  four  hours,  and  was,  on  the  whole,  at 
tended  with  more  marks  of  superstition  than  anything  I  found  in 
Italy.  I  was  told  that  the  better  educated  Christians  of  tlr- 
Greek  church  disbelieve  the  saint's  miracles.  The  whole  body 
of  the  Corfiote  ecclesiastics  were  in  the  procession,  however. 

I  passed  the  first  watch  in  the  hammock-nettings  to-nigh;, 
enjoying  inexpressibly  the  phenomena  of  lias  brilliant  climato. 
The  fctars  seem  burning  like  lamps  in  the  absolute  clearness  of 
the  atmosphere.  Meteors  shoot  constantly  with  a  slow  liquid 
course,  over  the  sky.  The  air  comes  off  from  the  land  laden 
with  the  breath  of  the  wild  thyme,  and  the  water  around  the  ship 
is  another  deep  blue  heaven,  motionless  with  its  studded 
constellations.  The  frigate  seems  suspended  between  them. 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  173 


We  have  little  idea,  while  conning  an  irksome  school-task,  how 
strongly  the  "  unwilling  lore"  is  rooting  itself  in  the  imagination. 
The  frigate  lies  perhaps  a  half  mile  from  the  most  interesting 
scenes  of  the  Odyssey.  I  have  been  recalling  from  the  long 
neglected  stores  of  memory,  the  beautiful  descriptions  of  the 
court  of  King  Alcinous,  and  of  the  meeting  of  his  matchless 
daughter  with  Ulysses.  The  whole  web  of  the  poet's  fable  has 
gradually  unwound,  and  the  lamps  ashore,  and  the  outline  of  the 
hills,  in  the  deceiving  dimness  of  night,  have  entered  into  the 
delusion  with  the  facility  of  a  dream.  Every  scene  in  Homer 
may  be  traced  to  this  day,  the  blind  old  poet's  topography  was  so 
admirable.  It  was  over  the  point  of  land  sloping  down  to  the 
right,  that  the  Princess  Nausicaa  went  with  her  handmaids  to 
wash  her  biidal  robes  in  the  running  streams.  The  description 
stiil  guides  the  traveller  to  the  spot  where  the  damsels  of  the 
royal  maid  spread  the  linen  on  the  grass,  and  commenced  the 
sports  that  waked  Ulysses  from  his  slumbers  in  the  bed  of  leaves. 


Ashore  with  one  of  the  officers  this  morning,  amusing  our 
selves  with  trying  on  dresses  in  a  Greek  tailor's  shop.  It  quite 
puts  one  out  of  conceit  with  these  miserable  European  fashions. 
The  easy  and  flowing  juktanilla,  the  unembarrassed  leggins,  the 
t>pen  sleeve  of  the  collarless  jacket  leaving  the  throat  exposed, 
and  the  handsome  close-binding  girdle  from  it,  seems  to  me  the 
very  dress  dictated  by  reason  and  nature.  The  richest  suit  in 
the  shop,  a  superb  red  velvet,  wrought  with  gold,  was  priced  at 
one  hundred  and  forty  dollars.  The  more  sober  colors  were 
much  cheaper.  A  dress  lasts  several  years. 


174        SUMMER   CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


We  made  our  farewell  visits  to  the  officers  of  the  English 
regiments,  who  had  overwhelmed  us  with  hospitality  during  our 
stay,  and  went  on  board  to  get  under  way  with  the  noon  breeze. 
We  were  accompanied  to  the  ship,  not  as  the  hero  of  Homer, 
when  he  left  the  same  port,  by  three  damsels  of  the  royal  train, 
bearing,  "  one  a  tunic,  another  a  rich  casket,  and  a  third  bread 
and  wine"  for  his  voyage,  but  by  Mrs.  Thompson  and  Mrs. 
"Wilson,  soldiers'  wives,  and  washerwomen,  with  baskets  of 
hurriedly  dried  linen,  pinned,  every  bundle,  with  a  neat  bill  in 
shillings  and  half-pence. 


Ulysses  slept  all  the  way  from  Corcyra  to  Ithaca.  He  lost  a 
great  deal  of  fine  scenery.  The  passage  between  Corfu  and 
Albania  is  beautiful.  We  ran  past  the  southern  cape  of  the 
island  with  a  free  wind,  and  are  now  off  the  Paxian  Isles,  where, 
according  to  Plutarch,  Emilanus,  the  rhetorician,  voyaging  by 
night,  "  heard  a  voice  louder  than  human,  announcing  the  death 
of  Pan."  A  "  schoolboy  midshipman"  is  breaking  the  same 
silence  with  "  on  deck,  all  hands  !  on  deck,  all  of  you  !" 


Off  the  mouth  of  the  Alpheus.  If  he  still  chases  Arethusa 
under  the  sej,,  and  she  makes  straight  for  Sicily,  her  bed  is 
beneath  our  keel.  The  moon  is  pouring  her  broad  light  over  the 
ocean,  the  shadows  of  the  rigging  on  the  deck  lie  in  clear  and 
definite  lines,  the  sailors  of  the  watch  sit  around  upon  the  guns 
in  silence,  and  the  ship,  with  her  clouds  of  snowy  sail  spread 
aloft,  is  stealing  through  the  water  with  the  noiseless  motion  of  a 


ON  BOARD  AN    AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  175 


swan.  Even  the  gallant  man-of-war  seems  steeped  in  the  spirit 
of  the  scene.  The  hour  wants  but  an  "  Ionian  Myrrha"  to  fill 
the  last  void  of  the  heart. 

Cape  Leucas  on  the  lee — the  scene  of  Sappho's  leap.  We 
have  coursed  down  the  long  shore  of  ancient  Leucadia,  and  the 
precipice  to  which  lovers  came  from  all  parts  of  Greece  for  an 
oblivious  plunge,  is  shining  in  the  sun,  scarce  a  mile  from  the 
ship.  The  beautiful  Grecian  here  sung  her  last  song,  and  broke 
her  lyre  and  died.  The  leap  was  not  always  so  tragical :  there 
are  two  lovers,  at  least,  on  record  (Maces  of  Buthrotum,  and 
Cephalos,  son  of  Deioneos),  who  survived  the  fall,  and  were 
cured  effectually  by  salt  water.  It  was  a  common  resource  in 
the  days  of  Sappho,  and  Strabo  says  that  they  were  accustomed 
to  check  their  descent  by  tying  birds  and  feathers  to  their  arms. 
Females,  he  says,  were  generally  killed  by  the  rapidity  of  the 
fall,  their  frames  being  too  slight  to  bear  the  shock ;  but  the  men 
seldom  failed  to  come  safe  to  shore.  The  sex .  has  not  lost  its 
advantages  since  the  days  of  Phaon. 

We  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  Ithaca  through  the  isles,  the 
land 

"  Where  sad  Penelope  o'erlooked'  the  wave," 

and  which  Ulysses  loved,  non  quia  larga,  sed  quia  sua — the  most 
natural  of  reasons.  We  lose  Childe  Harold's  track  here.  He 
turned  to  the  left  into  the  gulf  of  Lepanto.  We  shall  find  him 
again  at  Athens.  Missolonghi,  where  he  died,  lies  about  twenty 
or  thirty  miles  on  our  lee,  and  it  is  one,. of  several  places  in  the 
gulf,  that  I  regret  to  pass  so  near,  unvisited. 


176        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


Entering  the  bay  of  Navarino.  A  picturesque  and  precipitous 
rock,  filled  with  caves,  nearly  shuts  the  mouth  of  this  ample 
harbor.  We  ran  so  close  to  it,  that  it  might  have  been  touched 
from  the  deck  with  a  tandem  whip.  On  a  wild  crag  to  the  left, 
a  small,  white  marble  monument,  with  the  earth  still  fresh  about 
it,  marks  the  grave  of  some  victim  of  the  late  naval  battle.  The 
town  and  fortress,  miserable  heaps  of  dirty  stone,  lie  in  the  curve 
of  the  southern  shore.  A  French  brig-of-war  is  at  anchor  in  the 
port,  and  broad,  barren  hills,  stretching  far  away  on  every  side, 
complete  the  scene  before  us.  We  run  up  the  harbor,  and  tack 
to  stand  out  again,  without  going  ashore.  Not  a  soul  is  to  be 
seen,  and  the  bay  seems  the  very  sanctuary  of  silence.  It  is 
difficult  to  conceive,  that  but  a  year  or  two  ago,  the  combined 
fleets  of  Europe,  were  thundering  among  these  silent  hills,  and 
hundreds  of  human  beings  lying  in  their  blood,  whose  bones  are 
now  whitening  in  the  sea  beneath.  Our  pilot  was  in  the  fight,  on 
board  an  English  frigate.  He  has  pointed  out  to  us  the  position 
of  the  different  fleets,  and  among  other  particulars,  he  tells  me, 
that  when  the  Turkish  ships  were  boarded,  Greek  sailors  were 
found  chained  to  the  guns,  who  had  been  compelled,  at  the 
muzzle  of  the  pistol,  to  fight  against  the  cause  of  their  country. 
Many  of  them  must  thus  have  perished  in  the  vessels  that  were 
sunk. 

Navarino  was  the  scene  of  a  great  deal  of  fighting,  during  the 
late  Greek  revolution.  It  was  invested,  while  in  possession  of 
the  Turks,  by  two  thousand  Pelopennesians  and  a  band  of 
lonians,  and  the  garrison  were  reduced  to  such  a  state  of  starva 
tion,  as  to  eat  their  slippers.  They  surrendered  at  last,  under 
promise  that  their  lives  should  be  spared  ;  but  the  news  of  the 
massacre  of  the  Greek  patriarchs  and  clergy,  at  Adrianoplo,  was 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  177 

received  at  the  moment,  and  the  exasperated  troops  put  their 
prisoners  to  death,  without  mercy. 

The  peaceful  aspect  of  the  place  is  better  suited  to  its  poetical 
associations.  Navarino  was  the  ancient  Pylos,  and  it  is  here  that 
Homer  brings  Telemachus  in  search  of  his  father.  He  finds  old 
Nestor  and  his  sons  sacrificing  on  the  seashore  to  Neptune,  with 
nine  altars,  and  at  each  five  hundred  men.  I  should  think  the 
modern  town  contained  scarce  a  twentieth  of  this  number. 


Rounding  the  little  fortified  town  of  Modon,  under  full  sail. 
It  seems  to  be  built  on  the  level  of  the  water,  and  nothing  but 
its  high  wall  and  its  towers  are  seen  from  the  sea.  This,  too, 
has  been  a  much  contested  place,  and  remained  in  possession  of 
the  Turks  till  after  the  formation  of  the  provisional  government 
under  Mavrocordato.  It  forms  the  southwestern  point  of  the 
Morea,  and  is  a  town  of  great  antiquity.  King  Philip  gained  his 
first  battle  over  the  Athenians  here,  some  thousands  of  years 
ago  ;  and  the  brave  old  Minalis  beat  the  Egyptian  fleet  in  the 
same  bay,  without  doubt  in  a  manner  quite  as  deserving  of  as 
long  a  remembrance.  It  is  like  a  city  of  the  dead — we  cannot 
even  see  a  sentinel  on  the  wall. 


Passed  an  hour  in  the  mizen-chains  with  "  the  Corsair"  in  my 
hand,  and  "  Goran's  Bay"  opening  on  the  lee.  With  what 
exquisite  pleasure  one  reads,  when  he  can  look  off  from  the  page, 
and  study  the  scene  of  the  poet's  fiction  : — 


178"        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN'  THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


"  In  Goran's  bay  floats  many  a  galley  light, 
Through  Coran's  lattices  the  lamps  burn  bright, 
For  Seyd,  the  pacha,  makes  a  feast  to-night." 

It  is  a  small,  deep  bay,  with  a  fortified  town,  on  the  western 
shore,  crowned  on  the  very  edge  of  the  sea,  with  a  single, 
tall  tower.  A  small  aperture  near  the  top,  helps  to  realize 
the  Corsair's  imprisonment,  and  his  beautiful  interview  with 
Gulnare : — 

"  In  the  high  chamber  of  his  highest  tower, 
Sate  Conrad  fettered  in  the  pacha's  power,"  etc. 

The  Pirate's  Isle  is  said  to  have  been  Poros,  and  the  original 
of  the  Corsair  himself,  a  certain  Hugh  Crevelier,  who  filled  the 
.ZEgean  with  terror,  not  many  years  ago. 


Made  the  Cape  St.  Angelo,  the  southern  point  of  the 
Peloponnesus,  and  soon  after  the  island  of  Cythera,  near  which 
Venus  rose  from  the  foam  of  the  sea.  We  are  now  running 
northerly,  along  the  coast  of  ancient  Sparta.  It  is  a  mountainous 
country,  bare  and  rocky,  and  looks  as  rude  and  hardy  as  the 
character  of  its  ancient  sons.  I  have  been  passing  the  glass  in 
vain  along. the  coast,  to  find  a  tree.  A  small  hermitage  stands  on 
the  desolate  extremity  of  the  Cape,  and  a  Greek  monk,  the 
pilot  tells  me,  has  lived  there  many  years,  who  comes  from  his 
cell,  and  stands  on  the  rock  with  his  arms  outspread  to  bless  the 
passing  ship.  I  looked  for  him  in  vain. 

A  French  man-of-war  bore  down  upon  us  a  few  minutes  ago, 
and  saluted  the  commodore.  lie  ran  so  close,  that  we  could  sec 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  179 

the  features  of  his  officers  on  the  poop.  It  is  a  noble  sijjlit  at 
sea,  a  fine  ship  passing,  with  all  her  canvass  spread,  with  the 
added  rapidity  of  your  own  course  and  hers.  The  peal  of  the 
guns  in  the  midst  of.  the  solitary  ocean,  had  a  singular  effect 
The  echo  came  back  from  the  naked  shores  of  Sparta,  with  a 
warlike  sound,  that  might  have  stirred  old  Leonidas  in  his  grave. 
The  smoke  rolled  away  on  the  wind,  and  the  noble  ship  hoisted 
her  royals  once  more,  and  went  on  her  way.  We  are  making 
for  Napoli  di  Romania  -,vi'ii  a  summer  breeze,  and  hope  to  drop 
anchor  beneath  its  fortress,  at  sunset. 


LETTER   XX, 

The  Harbor  of  Napoli— Tricoupi  and  Mavrocordato,  Otho's  Cabinet  Counsellors— Colonel 
Gordon— King  Otbo— The  Misses  Armanspergs— Prince  of  Saxe— Miaulis,  the  Greek 
Admiral— Excursion  to  Argos,  the  Ancient  Terynthus. 

NAPOLI  DI  ROMANIA. — Anchored  in  the  harbor  of  Napoli  after 
dark.  An  English  frigate  lies  a  little  in,  a  French  and  Russian 
brig-nf-war  astern,  and  two  Greek  steamboats,  King  Otho's 
yacht,  and  a  quantity  of  caiques,  fill  the  inner  port.  The  fort 
stands  a  hundred  feet  over  our  heads  on  a  bold  promontory,  and 
the  rocky  PaLm.idi  soars  a  hundred  feet  still  higher,  on  a  crag 
that,  thrusts  its  head  sharply  into  the  clouds,  as  if  it  would  lift 
the  little  fortress  out  of  eyesight.  The  town  lies  at  the  base  of 
tin  mountain,  an  irregular  looking  heap  of  new  houses  ;  and 
here,  at  present,  resides  the  boy-king  of  Greece,  Otho  the  first. 
His  predecessors  were  Agamemnon 'and  Perseu«,  who,  some  three 
thousand  years  ago  (more  or  less,  I  am  not,  ceitiin  <-f  my 
chronology),  reigned  at  Argos  and  Mycenae,  within  sight  of  hi< 
present  capitol. 


Went  ashore   with  the   commodore,  to  call  on    Tricoupi  and 
Mavrocordato,  the  king's    cabinet    counsellors.     WM   found    the 


SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN.  181 


former  in  a  new  stone  house,  slenderly  furnished,  and  badly 
painted,  but  with  an  entry  full  of  servants,  in  handsome  Greek 
costumes.  He  received  the  commodore  with  the  greatest  friend 
liness.  He  had  dined  on  board  the  Constitution  six  years 
before,  when  Ids  prospects  were  less  promising  than  now.  He  is 
a  short,  stout  man,  of  dark  complexion,  and  very  bright  black 
eyes,  and  looks  very  honest  and  very  vulgar.  He  speaks  English 
perfectly.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  when  the  commodore 
alluded  to  having  left  him  fighting  for  a  republic,  and  said 
anything  was  better  than  anarchy.  He  spoke  in  the  highest 
terms  of  my  friend,  Dr.  Howe  (who  was  at  Napoli  with  the 
American  provisions,  when  Grivas  held  the  Palamidi.)  Greece, 
he  said,  had  never  a  better  friend.  Madam  Tricoupi  (the 
sister  of  Prince  Mavrocordato)  came  in  presently  with  two  very 
pretty  children.  She  spoke  French  fluently,  and  seemed  an 
accomplished  woman.  Her  family  had  long  furnished  the  Prince 
Hospodars  of  Wallachia,  and  though  not  a  beautiful  woman,  she 
has  every  mark  of  the  gentle  blood  of  the  east.  Colonel 
Gordon,  the  famous  Philhellene,  entered,  while  we  were  there. 
He  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Lord  Byron's,  and  has  expended 
the  best  part  of  a  large  fortune  in  the  Greek  cause.  He  is 
a  plain  man,  of  perhaps  fifty,  with  red  hair  and  freckled  face,  and 
features  and  accent  very  Scotch.  I  liked  his  manners.  He  had 
lately  written  a  book  upon  Greece,  which  is  well  spoken  of  in 
some  review  that  has  fallen  in  my  way. 

"Went  thence  to  Prince  Mavrocordato's.  He  occupies  the 
third  story  of  a  very  indifferent  house,  furnished  with  the  mere 
necessaries  of  life.  A  shabby  sofa,  a  table,  two  chairs,  and  a 
broken  tumbler,  holding  ink  and  two  pens,  is  the  inventory  of  his 
drawing-room.  He  received  us  with  elegance  and  courtesy,  and 


182  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


presented  us  to  his  wife,  a  pretty  and  lively  little  Constantino- 
politan,  who  chattered  French  like  a  magpie.  She  gave  the 
uncertainty  of  their  residence  until  the  seat  of  government  was 
decided  on,  as  the  apology  for  their  lodgings,  and  seemed 
immediately  to  forget  that  she  was  not  in  a  palace.  Mavro- 
cordato  is  a  strikingly  handsome  man,  with  long,  curling,  black 
hair,  and  most  luxuriant  mustaches.  His  mouth  is  bland,  and 
his  teeth  uncommonly  beautiful ;  but  without  being  able  to  say 
where  it  lies,  there  is  an  expression  of  guile  in  his  face,  that  shut 
my  heart  to  him.  He  is  getting  fat,  and  there  is  a  shade  of  red 
in  the  clear  olive  of  his  cheek,  which  is  very  uncommon  in  this 
country.  The  commodore  remarked  that  he  was  very  thin  when 
he  was  here  six  years  before.  The  settlement  of  affairs  in 
Greece,  has  probably  relieved  him  from  a  great  deal  of  care. 

Presented,  with  the  commodore,  to  King  Otho.  Tricoupi 
officiated  as  chamberlain,  dressed  in  a  court  suit  of  light  blue, 
wrought  with  silver.  The  royal  residence  is  a  comfortable 
house,  built  by  Capo  d'Istria,  in  the  principal  street  of  Napoli- 
The  king's  aid,  a  son  of  Marco  Bozzaris,  a  very  fine,  resolute- 
looking  young  man  of  eighteen,  received  us  in  the  antechamber, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  door  of  the  inner  room  was  thrown 
open.  His  majesty  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  throne  (a  gorgeous 
red  velvet  arm-chair,  raised  on  a  platform,  and  covered  with  a 
splendid  canopy  of  velvet),  and  with  a  low  bow  to  each  of  us  as 
we  entered,  he  addressed  his  conversation  immediately,  and 
without  embarrassment,  to  the  commodore.  I  had  leisure  to 
observe  him  closely  for  a  few  minutes.  He  appears  abtfut 
eighteen.  He  was  dressed  in  an  exceedingly  well  cut,  swallow- 
tailed  coat,  of  very  light  blue,  with  a  red  standing  collar, 
wrought  with  silver.  The  same  work  upon  a  red  ground,  was 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  183 

set  between  the  buttons  of  the  waist,  and  upon  the  edges  of  ths 
skirts.  "White  pantaloons,  and  the  ordinary  straight  court-sword, 
completed  his  dress.  He  is  rather  tall,  and  his  figure  i* 
extremely  light  and  elegant.  A  very  flat  nose,  and  high  cheek 
bones,  are  the  most  marked  features  of  his  face  ;  his  hair  is 
straight,  and  of  a  light  brown,  and  with  no  claim  to  beauty  ;  the 
expression  of  his  countenance  is  manly,  open,  and  prepossessing. 
He  spoke  French  fluently,  though  with  a  German  accent,  and 
went  through  the  usual  topics  of  a  royal  presentation  (very  much 
the  same  all  over  the  world)  with  grace  and  ease.  In  the  few 
remarks  which  he  addressed  to  me,  he  said  that  he  promised 
himself  frn-at  pleasure  in  the  search  for  antiquities  in  Greece. 
He  bowed  us  out  after  an  audience  of  about  ten  minutes,  no 
doubt  extremely  happy  to  exchange  his  court  coat  cnl  GUI- 
company  for  a  riding-frock  and  saddle.  His  horse  and  a  guard 
of  twelve  lancers  were  in  waiting  at  the  door. 

The  kino;  usually  passes  his  evenings  with  the  Misses  Arman- 
bpergs,  the  daughters  of  the  president  of  the  regency.  They 
accompanied  him  from  Munich,  and  are  the  only  ladies  in  Lis 
realm  with  whom  he  is  acquainted.  They  keep  a  carriage,  which 
is  a  kind  of  wonder  at  Napoli ;  ride  on  horseback  in  the  English 
style,  very  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  Greeks ;  and  give 
soirees  once  or  twice  a  week,  which  are  particularly  dull.  Ono 
of  the  three  is  a  beautiful  girl,  and  if  policy  does  not  interfere,  is 
likely  to  be  Queen  of  Greece.  The  Count  Armansperg  is  a 
small,  shrewd-looking  man,  with  a  thin  German  countenance, 
and  agreeable  manners.  He  is,  of  course,  the  real  king  of 
Greece. 

The  most  agreeable  man  I  found  in  Napoli,  was  the  king'* 
uncle,  the  prince  of  Saxe,  at  present  in  command  of  his  army. 


1S4  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


He  is  a  tall,  and  uncommonly  handsome  soldier,  of  perhaps 
thirty-six  years,  and,  with  all  the  air  of  a  man  of  high  birth,  has 
the  open  and  frank  manners  of  the  camp.  He  has  been  twice 
on  board  the  ship,  and  seemed  to  consider  his  acquaintance  with 
the  commodore's  family  as  a  respite  from  exile.  The  Bavarian 
officers  in  his  suite  spoke  nothing  but  the  native  German,  and 
looked  like  mere  beef-eaters.  The  prince  returns  in  two  years, 
and  when  the  king  is  of  age,  his  Bavarian  troops  leave  him,  and 
he  commits  himself  to  the  country. 


Hired  the  only  two  public  vehicles  in  Napoli,  and  set  off  with 
the  commodore's  family,  on  an  excursion  to  the  ancient  cities  in 
the  neighborhood.  We  left  the  gate  built  by  the  Venetians,  and 
still  adorned  with  a  bas  relief  of  a  winged  lion,  at  nine  o'clock  of 
a  clear  Grecian  summer's  day.  Auguries  were  against  us. 
P vi  thus  did  the  same  thing  with  his  elephants  arid  bis  army,  one 
morning  about  two  thousand  years  ago,  and  was  killed  before 
noon  ;  and  our  driver  stopped  his  horses  a  half  mile  out  of  the 
gate,  and  told  us  very  gravely  that  the  evil  eye  was  upon  him. 
He  had  dreamed  that  he  had  found  a  dollar  the  night  before — a 
certain  sign  by  the  laws  of  witchcraft  in  Greece,  that  he  should 
low  one.  He  concluded  by  adding  another  dollar  to  the  price 
of'  each  carriage. 

We  passed  the  house  of  old  Miaulis,  the  Greek  admiral,  a 
pretty  cottage  a  mile  from  the  city,  and  immediately  after  came 
the  ruins  of  the  ancient  Terynlhus,  the  city  of  Hercules.  The 
vails,  built  of  the  largest  hewn  stories  in  the  world,  still  stand,  and 
will  till  time  ends.  It  would  puzzle  modern  mechanics  to  carry 
them  away.  We  drove  along  the  same  road  upon  which 


ON   BOARD    AN   AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  185 


Autolycus  taught  the  young  hero  to  drive  a  chariot,  and  passing 
ruins  and  fragments  of  columns  strewn  over  the  whole  length  of 
the  plain  of  Argos,  stopped  under  a  spreading  aspen  tree,  the 
only  shade  within  reach  of  the  eye.  A  dirty  khan  stood  a  few 
yards  off,  and  our  horses  were  to  remain  here  while  we  ascended 
the  hills  to  Mycence. 

It  was  a  hot  walk.  The  appearance  of  ladies,  as  we  passed 
through  a  small  Greek  village  on  our  way,  drew  out  all  the 
inhabitants,  and  we  were  accompanied  by  about  fifty  men, 
women,  and  children,  resembling  very  much  in  complexion  and 
dress,  the  Indians  of  our  country.  A  mile  from  our  carriages 
we  arrived  at  a  subterranean  structure,  built  in  the  side  of  the 
hill,  with  a  door  toward  tfce  east,  surmounted  by  the  hewn  stone 
so  famous  for  its  size  among  the  antiquities  of  Greece.  It  shuts 
the  tomb  of  old  Agamemnon.  The  interior  is  a  hollow  cone, 
with  a  small  chamber  at  the  side,  and  would  make  "  very  eligible 
lodgings  for  a  single  gentleman,"  as  the  papers  say. 

We  kept  on  up  the  hill,  wondering  that  the  "  king  of  many 
islands  and  of  all  Argos,"  as  Homer  calls  him,  should  have  built 
his  city  so  high  in  this  hot  climate.  We  sat  down  at  last,  quite 
fagged,  at  the  gate  of  a  city  built  only  eighteen  hundred  years 
before  Christ.  A  descendant  of  Perseus  brought  us  some  water 
in  a  wooden  piggin,  and  somewhat  refreshed,  we  went  on  with 
our  examination  of  the  ruins.  The  mere  weight  of  the  walls  has 
ko.pt  them  together  three  thousand  six  hundred  years.  You  can 
judge  how  iuimovouble  they  must  be.  The  antiquarians  call 
them  the  "  cyclopean  walls  of  Mycenae  ;"  and  nothing  less  than 
a  giant,  I  should  suppose,  would  dream  of  heaving  such  enormous 
masses  one  upon  the  other.  "  The  gate  of  the  Lions,"  probably 
the  principal  entrance  to  the  city,  is  still  perfect.  The  bas- 


186          SUMMER   CRUISE  IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 


relief  from  which  it  takes  its  name,  is  the  oldest  sculptured  stone 
in  Europe.  It  is  of  green  basalt,  representing  two  lions  rampant, 
very  finely  executed,  and  was  brought  from  Egypt.  An  an^lo 
of  the  city  wall  is  just  below,  and  the  ruins  of  a  noble  aqueduct 
are  still  visible,  following  the  curve  of  the  opposite  hill,  and 
descending  to  Mycenae  on  the  northern  side.  I  might  bore  you 
now  with  a  long  chapter  on  antiquities  (for,  however  dry  in  the 
abstract,  they  arc  exceedingly  interesting  on  the  spot),  but  I  let 
you  off.  Those  who  like  them  will  find  Sphon  and  Wheeler, 
Dodwell,  Leake,  and  Grell,  diffuse .  enough  for  the  most  classic 
enthusiasm. 

We  descended  by  a  rocky  ravine,  in  the  bosom  of  which  lay  a 
well  with  six  large  fig-trees  growing  at  its  brink.  A  wouia-i, 
burnt  black  with  the  sun,  was  drawing  water  in  a  goat-skin,  and 
we  were  too  happy  to  get  into  the  shade,  and  in  the  namo  of  Pan, 
sink  delicacy  and  ask  for  a  drink  of  water.  I  have  seen  thu  tiim* 
when  nectar  in  a  cup  of  gold  would  have  been  less  refresh  in-/. 

We  arrived  at  the  aspen  about  two  o'clock,  and  nuvlo 
preparations  for  our  dinner.  The  sea-breeze  had  sprung  up,  and 
came  freshly  over  the  plain  of  Argos.  We  put  our  claret  in  a 
goat-skin  of  water  hung  at  one  of  the  wheels,  the  basket  was 
produced,  the  ladies  sat  in  the  interior  of  the  carriage,  and  the 
commodore  and  his  son  and  myself,  made  tables  of  the  foot 
boards  ;  and  thus  we  achieved  a  meal  which,  if  meals  are 
rui'is.Mirod  by  content,  old  King  .Danaus  and  his  fifty  dauu'h tors 
might  have  risen  from  their  graves  to  envy  us. 

A  very  handsome  Greek  woman  had  brought  us  water  and 
stood  near  while  we  were  eating,  and  making  over  to  her  the 
remnants  of  the  ham  and  its  condiments  and  the  empty  bottles, 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  187 


with  which  she  seemed  made  happy  for  a  day,  we  went  on  our 
way  to  Argos. 

"Rivers  die,"  it  is  said,  "  as  well  as  men  and  cities."  We 
drove  through  the  bed  of  "Father  Inachus,"  which  was  a 
respectable  river  in  the  time  of  Homer,  but  which,  in  our  day, 
would  ^  puzzled  to  drown  a  much  less  thing  than  a  king.  Men 
achieve  hmuortulifcy  in  a.  vanity  of  ways.  King  Inachus  might 
have  been  forgotten  as  the  first  Argive  ;  but  by  drowning  himself 
in  the  river  which  afterward  took  his  name,  every  knowledge- 
hunter  that  travels  is  compelled  to  look  up  his  history.  So  St. 
Nepomuc  became  the  guardian  of  bridges  by  breaking  his  neck 
over  one. 

The  modern  Argos  occupies  the  site  of  the  ancient.  It  is 
tolerably  populous,  but  it  is  a  town  of  most  wretched  hovels. 
We  drove  through  several  long  streets  of  mud  houses  with 
thatched  roofs,  completely  open  in  front,  and  the  whole  family 
huddled  together  on  the  clay  floor,  with  no  furniture  but  a  flock 
bed  in  the  corner.  The  first  settlement  by  Deucalion  and 
Pyrrha,  on  the  sediment  of  the  deluge,  must  have  looked  like  it. 
Mud,  stones,  and  beggars,  were  all  we  saw.  Old  Pyrrhus  was 
killed  here,  after  all  his  battles,  by  a  tile  from  a  house-top  ;  but 
modern  Argos  has  scarce  a  roof  high  enough  to  overtop  his 
helmet. 

We  left  our  carriages  in  the  street,  and  walked  to  the  ruins  of 
the  amphitheatre.  The  brazen  thalamos  in  which  Danae  was 
confined  when  Jupiter  visited  her  in  a  shower  of  gold,  was  near 
this  spot,  the  supposed  site  of  most  of  the  thirty  temples  once 
famous  in  Argos. 

Some  solid  brick  walls,  the  seats  of  the  amphitheatre  cut  into 
the  solid  rock  of  the  hill,  the  rocky  acropolis  above,  and  twenty 


188         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


or  thirty  horses  tied  together,  and  treading  out  grain  on  a 
thrashing-floor  in  the  open  field>  were  all  we  found  of  ancient  or 
picturesque  in  the  capitol  of  the  Argives.  A  hot,  sultry  after 
noon,  was  no  time  to  weave  romance  from  such  materials. 

We  returned  to  our  carriages,  and  while  the  Greek  was  getting 
his  horses  into  their  harness,  we  entered  a  most  unpromising  cafe 
for  shade  and  water.  A  billiard-table  stood  in  the  centre  ;  and 
the  high,  broad  bench  on  which  the  Turks  seat  themselves,  with 
their  legs  crooked  under  them,  stretched  around  the  wall.  The 
proprietor  was  a  Venetian  woman,  who  sighed,  as  she  might  well, 
for  a  gondola.  The  kingdom  of  Agamemnon  was  not  to  her 
taste. 

After  waiting  awhile  here  for  the  sun  to  get  behind  the  hills  of 
Sparta,  we  received  a  message  from  our  coachman,  announcing 
that  he  was  arrested.  The  "  evil  eye"  had  not  glanced  upon 
him  in  vain.  There  was  no  returning  without  him,  and  I  walked 
over  with  the  commodore  to  see  what  could  be  done.  A  fine- 
looking  man  sat  cross-legged  on  a  bench,  in  the  upper  room  of  a 
building  adjoining  a  prison,  and  a  man  with  a  pen  in  his  hand 
was  reading  the  indictment.  The  driver  had  struck  a  child  who 
was  climbing  on  his  wheel.  I  pleaded  his  case  in  ('  choice 
Italian,"  and  after  half  an  hour's  delay,  they  dismissed  him, 
exacting  a  dollar  as  a  security  for  reappearance.  It  was  a 
curious  verification  of  his  morning's  omen. 

We  drove  on  over  the  plain,  met  the  king,  five  camels,  and 
the  Misses  Armansperg,  and  were  on  board  soon  after  sunset. 


LETTER   XXI, 

Visit  from  King  Otho  and  Miaulis — Visits  an  English  and  Eussian  frigate — Beauty  of  th« 
Grecian  Men — Lake  Lcma — The  llermionicas  Sinus — Hydra — Efina, 

NAPOLI  DI  ROMANIA. — Went  ashore  with  one  of  the  officers,  to 
look  for  the  fountain  of  Canathus.  Its  waters  had  the  property 
(vide  Pausanias)  of  renewing  the  infant  purity  of  the  women  who 
bathed  in  them.  Juno  used  it  once  a  year.  We  found  but  one 
natural  spring  in  all  Napoli.  It  stands  in  a  narrow  street,  filled 
with  tailors,  and  is  adorned  with  a  marble  font  bearing  a  Tuvkij-h 
inscription.  Two  girls  were  drawing  water  in  skins.  We  drank 
a  little  of  it,  but  found  nothing  peculiar  in  the  taste.  Its  virtues 
are  confined  probably  to  the  other  sex. 


The  king  visited  the  ship.  As  his  barge  left  the  pier,  the 
vessels  of  war  in  the  harbor  manned  their  yards  and  fired  the  royal 
salute.  He  was  accompanied  by  young  Bozzaris  and  the  prince, 
his  uncle,  and  dressed  in  the  same  uniform  in  which  he  received 
us  at  our  presentation.  As  he  stepped  on  the  deck,  and  was 
received  by  Commodore  Patterson,  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  a 
more  elegant  and  well-proportioned  man.  The  frigate  was  in  her 


190         SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


usual  admirable  order,  and  the  king  expressed  his  surprise  and 
gratification  at  every  turn.  His  questions  were  put  with  un 
common  judgment  for  a  landsman.  We  had  heard,  indeed,  on 
board  the  English  frigate  which  brought  him  from  Trieste,  that 
he  lost  no  opportunity  of  learning  the  duties  and  management  of 
the  ship,  keeping  watch  with  the  midshipmen,  and  running  from 
one  deck  to  the  other  at  all  hours.  After  going  thoroughly 
through  all  the  ship,  the  commodore  presented  him  to  his  family. 
He  seemed  very  much  pleased  with  the  ease  and  frankness  with 
which  he  was  received,  and  seating  himself  with  our  fair  country 
women  in  the  after-cabin,  prolonged  his  visit  to  a  very  uncere 
monious  length,  conversing  with  the  most  unreserved  gayety. 
The  yards  were  manned  again,  the  salutes  fired  once  more,  and 
the  king  of  Greece  tossed  his  oars  for  a  moment  under  the  stern, 
and  pulled  ashore. 


Had  the  pleasure  and  honor  of  showing  Mmulis  through  the 
ship.  The  old  man  came  on  board  very  modestly,  without  even 
announcing  himself,  and  as  he  addressed  one  of  the  officers  in 
Italian,  I  was  struck  with  his  noble  appearance,  and  oifered  my 
services  as  interpreter.  He  was  dressed  in  the  Hydriote  costume, 
the  full  blue  trousers  gathered  at  the  knee,  a  short  open  jacket, 
worked  with  black  braid,  and  a  red  skull-cap.  His  lieutenant, 
dressed  in  the  same  costume,  a  tall,  superb-looking  Greek,  was 
his  only  attendant.  Hs  was  quite  at  home  on  board,  comparing 
the  ''  United  States"  continually  to  the  Hellas,  the  American- 
built  frigate  which  he  commanded.  Every  one  on  board  was 
struck  with  the  noble  simplicity  and  dignity  of  his  address-  I 
have  seldom  seen  a  man  who  impressed  me  more.  He  requested 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE. 


me  to  express  bis  pleasure  at  his  visit,  and  bis  friendly  feelings 
to  tbe  commodore,  and  invited  us  to  bis  country-bouse,  wbicb  be 
pointed  out  from  tbe  deck,  just  without  tbe  city.  Every  officer 
in  tbe  sbip  uncovered  as  he  passed.  The  gratification  at  seeing 
him  was  universal.  He  looks  worthy  to  be  one  of  the  "three" 
that  Byron  demanded,  in  bis  impassioned  verse, 

"  To  make  a  new  Thermopylae." 


Returned  visits  of  ceremony  with  the  commodore,  to  the 
English  and  Russian  vessels  of  war.  The  British  frigate  Mada 
gascar  is  about  tbe  size  of  the  United  States,  but  not  in  nearly 
so  fine  a  condition.  The  superior  cleanliness  and  neatness  of 
arrangement  on  board  our  own  ship  are  indisputable.  The  cabin 
of  Captain  Lyon  (who  is  said  to  be  onevof  the  best  officers  in  the 
English  service)  was  furnished  in  almost  oriental  luxury,  and, 
what  I  should  esteem  more,  crowded  with  the  choicest  books. 
He  informed  us  that  of  his  twenty-four  midshipmen,  nine  were 
sons  of  noblemen,  and  possessed  the  best  family  influence  on 
both  fathers'  and  mothers'  side,  and  several  of  the  remainder  had 
high  claims  for  preferment.  There  is  small  chance  there,  one 
would  think,  for  commoners. 

Captain  Lyon  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of  his  late  passenger, 
King  Otho,  both  as  to  disposition  and  talent.  Somewhere  in  the 
jEgean,  one  of  bis  Bavarian  servants  fell  overboard,  and  the 
boatswain  jumped  after  him,  and  sustained  him  till  the  boat  was 
lowered  to  his  relief.  On  his  reaching  the  deck,  the  king  drew  a 
valuable  repeater  from  his  pocket,  and  presented  it  to  him  ip  the 


192         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

presence  of  the  crew.     He  certainly  has   caught  the  "  trick  of 
royalty"  in  its  perfection. 

The  guard  presented,  the  boatswain  "  piped  us  over  the  side," 
and  we  pulled  alongside  the  Russian.  The  file  of  marines  drawn 
up  in  honor  of  the  commodore  on  her  quarter  deck,  looked  like 
so  many  standing  bears.  Features  and  limbs  so  brutally  coarse 
I  never  saw.  The  officers,  however,  were  very  gentlemanly,  and 
the  vessel  was  in  beautiful  condition.  In  inquiring  after  the 
health  of  the  ladies  on  board  our  ship,  the  captain  and  his  lieu 
tenant  rose  from  their  seats  and  made  a  low  bow — a  degree  of 
chivalrous  courtesy  very  uncommon,  I  fancy,  since  the  days  of 
Sir  Piercie  Shafton.  I  left  his  imperial  majesty's  ship  with  an 
improved  impression  of  him. 


They  are  a  gallant-looking  people,  the  Greeks.  Byron  says 
of  them,  "  all  are  beautiful,  very  much  resembling  tho  busts  of 
Alcibiades."  We  walked  beyond  the  walls  of  the  city  this  eve 
ning,  on  the  plain  of  Argos.  The  whole  population  were  out  in 
their  Sunday  costumes,  and  no  theatrical  ballet  was  ever  more 
showy  than  the  scene.  They  are  a  very  affectionate  people,  and 
walk  usually  hand  in  hand,  or  sit  upon  the  rocks  at  the  roadside, 
with  their  arms  over  each  other's  shoulders  ;  and  their  picturesque 
attitudes  and  lofty  gait,  combined  with  the  flowing  beauty  of 
their  dress,  give  them  all  the  appearance  of  heroes  on  the  stage. 
I  saw  literally  no  handsome  women,  but  the  men  were  magnifi 
cent,  almost  without  exception.  Among  others,  a  young  man 
passed  us  with  whose  personal  beauty  the  whole  party  wero 
struck.  As  he  went  by  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  breast  and  bowed 
to  the  ladies,  raising  his  red  cap,  with  its  flowing  bluo  tassel,  at 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  193 


the  same  time  with  perfect  grace.  It  was  a  young  man  to  whom 
I  had  been  introduced  the  day  previous,  a  brother  of  Mavromi- 
chalis,  the  assassin  of  Capo  d'Istrias.  He  is  about  seventeen, 
tall  and  straight  as  an  arrow,  and  has  the  eye  of  a  falcon.  His 
family  is  one  of  the  first  in  Greece  ;  and  his  brother,  who  was  a' 
fellow  of  superb  beauty,  is  said  to  have  died  in  the  true  heroic 
style,  believing  that  he  had  rid  his  country  of  a  tyrant. 

The  view  of  Napoli  and  the  Palamidi  from  the  plain,  with  its 
back  ground  of  the  Spartan  mountains,  and  the  blue  line  of  the 
Argylic  gulf  between,  is  very  fine.  The  home  of  the  Nemean 
lion,  the  lofty  hiil  rising  above  Argos,  was  enveloped  in  a  black 
cloud  as  the  sun  set  on  our  walk,  the  short  twilight  of  Greece 
thickened  upon  us,  and  the  white,  swaying  juktauillas  of  the 
Greeks  striding  past,  had  the  effect  of  spirits  gliding  by  in  the 
dark. 

The  king,  \vn.i  iiis  guard  of  lancers  on  a  hard  trot,  passed  us 
near  the  gate,  ioiiuwcd  close  by  the  Aiisses  Armansperg,  mounted 
on  line  liunguiiuu  horses.  His  majesty  rides  beautifully,  and  the 
effect  of  the  short  high-borne  flag  on  the  tips  of  the  lances,  and 
the  tall  Polish  caps  with  their  cord  and  tassels,  is  highly  pictur 
esque 


Made  an  excursion  with  the  commodore  across  the  gulf,  10 
Lake  Lerna,  the  home  of  the  hydra.  We  saw  nothing  save  the 
half  dozen  small  marshy  lakes,  whose  overflow  devastated  the 
country,  until  they  were  dammed  by  Hercules,  who  is  thus  poeti 
cally  said  to  have  killed  a  many-headed  monster.  We  visited, 
near  by,  u  the  mills,"  which  were  the  scene  of  one  of  the  most 
famous  battles  of  the  late  struggle.  The  mill  is  supplied  by  a 


194         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


lovely  stream,  issuing  from  beneath  a  rock,  and  running  a  short 
course  of  twenty  or  thirty  rods  to  the  sea.  It  is  difficult  to 
believe  that  human  blood  has  ever  stained  its  pure  waters. 


'  Left  Napoli  with  the  daylight  breeze,  and  are  now  entering  the 
Hermionicus  Sinus.  A  more  barren  land  never  rose  upon  the 
eye.  The  ancients  considered  this  part  of  Greece  so  near  to 
hell,  that  they  omitted  to  put  the  usual  obolon  into  the  hands  of 
those  who  died  here,  to  pay  their  passage  across  the  Styx. 


Off  the  town  of  Hydra.  This  is  the  birthplace  of  Miaulis, 
and  its  neighbor  island,  Spesia,  that  of  the  sailor  heroine,  Bobo- 
lina.  It  is  a  heap  of  square  stone  houses  set  on  the  side  of  a 
hill,  without  the  slightest  reference  to  order.  I  see  with  the 
glass,  au  old  Greek  smoking  on  his  balcony,  with  his  feet  over  the 
railing,  and  half  a  dozen  bare-legged  women  getting  a  boat  into 
the  water  on  the  beach.  The  whole  island  has  a  desolate  and 
sterile  aspect.  Across  the  strait,  directly  opposite  the  town,  lies  a 
lovely  green  valley,  with  olive  groves  and  pastures  between,  and 
hundreds  of  gray  cattle  feeding  in  all  the  peace  of  Arcadia.  I 
!,;ive  seen  such  pictures  so  seldom  of  late,  that  it  is  like  a  mcdi- 
oino  to  my  sight.  "  The  sea  and  the  sky,"  after  a  while,  "  lie 
like  a  load  on  the  weary  eye." 


In  passing  two  small  islands  just  now,  we  caught  a  glimpse 
between  them  of  the  "  John  Adams,"  sloop-of-war,  under  full 
•sail  in  the  opposite  direction.  Five  minutes  sooner  or  later  we 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  195 

should  have  missed  her.  She  has  been  cruising  in  the  archipel 
ago  a  month  or  two,  waiting  the  commodore's  arrival,  and  has  on 
board  despatches  and  letters,  which  make  the  meeting  a  very 
exciting  one  to  the  officers.  There  is  a  general  stir  of  expecta 
tion  on  board,  in  which  my  only  share  is  that  of  sympathy.  She 
brings  her  news  from  Smyrna,  to  which  port,  though  my  course 
has  been  errant  enough,  you  will  scarce  have  thought  of  direct 
ing  a  letter  for  me. 


Anchored  off  the  Island  of  Egina,  a  mile  from  the  town.  The 
rocks  which  King  ^Eacus  (since  Judge  ./Eacus  of  the  infernal 
regions)  raised  in  the  harbor  to  keep  off  the  piratas,  prevent  our 
nearer  approach.  A  beautiful  garden  of  oranges  and  figs  close  to 
our  anchorage,  promises  to  reconcile  us  to  our  position.  The 
little  bay  is  completely  shut  in  by  mountainous  islands,  and  the 
sun  pours  down  upon  us,  unabated  by  the  "  wooing  Egean  wind.' 


LETTER    XXII, 

The  Maid  of  Athens— Romance  and  Eeality— American  Benefactions  to  Greece— A  Greek 
"Wife  and  Scottish  Husband— School  of  Capo  dMsMas--Gre;:iar  Dirinterertcdn'xss— 
Euins  of  the  most  Ancient  Temple— Beauty  of  the  Grecian  Landscape— Hope  ior  the- 
Land  of  Epaminondas  and  Aristides. 

ISLAND  OF  EGINA. — The  "  Maid  of  Athens,"  in  the  very 
teeth  of  poetry,  has  become  Mrs.  Black  of  Egina !  The  beau 
tiful  Teresa  Makri,  of  whom  Byron  asked  back  his  heart,  of 
whom  Moore  and  Hobhouse,  and  the  peet  himself  have  written 
so  much  and  so  passionately,  has  forgotten  the  sweet  burthen  of 
the  sweetest  of  love  songs,  and  taken  the,  unromantic  name,  and 
followed  the  unromantic  fortunes,  of  a  Scotchman  ! 

The  commodore  proposed  that  we  should  call  upon  her  on  our 
way  to  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  this  morning.  We  pulled  up  to 
the  town  in  the  barge,  and  landed  on  the  handsome  pier  built  by 
Dr.  Howe  (who  expended  thus,  most  judiciously,  a  part  of  tho 
provisions  sent  from  our  country  in  his  charge),  and,  finding  a 
Greek  in  the  crowd,  who  understood  a  little  Italian,  we  were  soon 
on  our  way  to  Mrs.  Black's.  Our  guide  was  a  fine,  grave-look 
ing  man  of  forty,  with  a  small  cockade  on  his  red  cap,  which 
indicated  that  he  was  some  way  in  the  service  of  the  govern 
ment.  He  laid  his  hand  on  his  heart,  when  I  asked  him  if  he 


SUMMER   CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.  197 


had  known  any  Americans  in  Egina.  "  They  built  this,"  said 
he,  pointing  to  the  pier,  the  handsome  granite  posts  of  which  we 
were  passing  at  the  moment.  "  They  gave  us  bread,  and  meat, 
and  clothing,  when  we  should  otherwise  have  perished."  It  was 
said  with  a  look  and  tone  that  thrilled  me.  I  felt  as  if  the 
whole  debt  of  sympathy  which  Greece  owes  our  country,  were 
repaid  by  this  one  energetic  expression  of  gratitude. 

We  stopped  opposite  a  small  gate,  and  the  Greek  went  in  with 
out  cards.  It  was  a  small  stone  house  of  a  story  and  a  half,  with 
a  rickety  flight  of  wooden  steps  at  the  side,  and  not  a  blade  of 
grass  or  sign  of  a  flower  in  court  or  window.  If  there  had 
been  but  a  geranim.j  i:i  tii  ^  ;roh,  or  a  rose-tree  by  the  gate,  for 
description's  sake. 

Mr.  Black  was  out — Mrs.  Black  was  in.  We  walked  up  the 
creaking  steps,  with  a  Scotch  terrier  barking  and  snapping  at  our 
heels,  and  were  met  at  the  door  by,  really,  a  very  pretty  woman. 
She  smiled  as  I  apologized  for  o-ur  intrusion,  and  a  sadder  or  a 
sweeter  smile  I  never  saw.  She  said  her  welcome  in  a  few, 
simple  words  of  Italian,  and  I  thought  there  were  few  sweeter 
voices  in  the  world.  I  asked  her  if  she  had  not  learned  English 
yet.  She  colored,  and  said,  "  No,  signore  !"  and  the  deep  spot 
in  her  cheek  faded  gradually  down,  in  teints  a  painter  would 
remember.  Her  husband,  she  said,  had  wished  to  learn  her  lan 
guage,  and  would  never  Jet  her  speak  English.  I  began  to  feel  a 
prejudice  against  him.  Presently,  a  boy  of  perhaps  three  years 
came  into  the  room- — an  ugly,  white-headed,  Scotch-looking 
little  ruffian,  thin-lipped  and  freckled,  and  my  aversion  for  Mr. 
Black  became  quite  decided.  "  Did  you  not  regret  leaving 
Athens  ?"  I  asked.  "  Very  much,  siguore,"  she  answered  with 


198          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


half  a  sigh;  "but  my  husband  dislikes  Athens."  Horrid  Mr 
Black  !  thought  I. 

I  wished  to  ask  her  of  Lord  Byron,  but  I  had  heard  that  the 
poet's  admiration  had  occasioned  the  usual  scandal  attendant  on 
every  kind  of  pre-eminence,  and  her  modest  and  timid  manners, 
while  they  assured  me  of  her  purity  of  heart,  made  me  afraid  to 
venture  where  there  was  even  a  possibility  of  wounding  her. 
She  sat  in  a  drooping  attitude  on  the  coarsely -covered  divan, 
which  occupied  three  sides  of  the  little  room^  and  it  was  difficult 
to  believe  that  any  eye  but  her  husband's  had  ever  looked  upon 
her,  or  that  the  "  wells  of  her  heart"  had  ever  been  drawn  upon 
for  any  thing  deeper  than  the  simple  duties  of  a  wife  and  mother. 

She  offered  us  some  sweetmeats,  the  usual  Greek  compliment 
to  visitors,  as  we  rose  to  go,  and  laying  her  hand  upon  her  heart, 
in  the  beautiful  custom  of  the  country,  requested  me  to  express 
her  thanks  to  the  commodore  for  the  honor  he  had  done  her  in 
calling,  and  to  wish  him  and  his  family  every  happiness.  A 
servant-girl,  very  shabbily  dressed,  stood  at  the  side  door,  and  we 
offered  her  some  money,  which  she  might  have  taken  unnoticed. 
She  drew  herself  up  very  coldly,  and  refused  it,  as  if  she  thought 
we  had  quite  mistaken  her.  In  a  country  where  gifts  of  the 
kind  are  so  universal,  it  spoke  well  for  the  pride  of  the  family,  at 
least. 

I  turned  after  we  had  taken  leave,  and  made  an  apology  to 
speak  to  her  again  ;  for  in  the  interest  of  the  general  impression 
she  had  madj  upon  me,  I  had  forgotten  to  notice  her  dress,  and-I 
was  not  sure  that  I  could  remember  a  single  feature  of  her  face. 
We  had  called  unexpectedly  of  course,  and  her  dress  was  very 
plain.  A  red  cloth  cap  bound  about  the  temples,  with  a  colored 
shawl,  whose  folds  were  mingled  with  large  braids  of  dark  browu 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  199 


Lair,  and  decked  with  a  tassel  of  blue  silk,  which  fell  to  her  left 
shoulder,  formed  her  head-dress.  In  other  respects  she  was 
dressed  like  a  European.  She  is  a  little  above  the  middle  height, 
slightly  arid  well-formed,  and  walks  weakly,  like  most  Greek 
women,  as  if  her  feet  were  too  small  for  her  weight.  Her  skin 
is  dark  and  clear,  and  she  has  a  color  in  her  cheek  and  lips  that 
looks  to  me  consumptive.  Her  teeth  are  white  and  regular,  her 
face  oval,  and  her  forehead  and  nose  form  the  straight  line  of  the 
Grecian  model — one  of  the  few  instances  I  have  ever  seen  of  it. 
Her  eyes  are  large,  and  of  a  soft,  liquid  hazel,  and  this  is  her 
chief  beauty.  There  is 'that  "  looking  out  of  the  soul  through 
them,"  which  Byron  always  described  as  constituting  the  loveli 
ness  that  most  moved  him.  I  made  up  my  mind,  as  we  walked 
away,  that  she  would  be  a  lovely  woman  anywhere.  Her  horrid 
name,  and  the  unprepossessing  circumstances  in  which  we  found 
her,  had  uncharmed,  I  thought,  all  poetical  delusion  that  would 
naturally  surround  her  as  the  "  Maid  of  Athens."  We  met  her 
as  simple  Mrs.  Black,  whose  Scotch  husband's  terrier  had 
worried  us  at  her  door,  and  we  left  her,  feeling  that  the  poetry 
which  she  had  called  forth  from  the  heart  of  Byron,  was  her  due 
by  every  law  of  loveliness- 

From  the  house  of  the  maid  of  Athens  we  walked  to  the 
school  of  Capo  d'Istrias.  It  is  a  spacious  stone  quadrangle, 
enclosing  a  court  handsomely  railed  and  gravelled,  and  furnished 
with  gymnastic  apparatus.  School  was  out,  and  perhaps  a 
hundred  and  fifty  boys  were  playing  in  the  area.  An  intelligent- 
looking  man  accompanied  us  through  the  museum  of  antiquities,, 
where  we  saw  nothing  very  much  worth  noticing,  after  the  collec 
tions  of  Home,  and  to  the  library,  where  there  was  a  superb  bust 


200         SUMMER   CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

of  Capo  d'Istrias,  done  by  a  Roman  artist.     It  is  a  noble  head, 
resembling  Washington. 

We  bought  a  large  basket  of  grapes  for  a  few  cents  in  return 
ing  to  the  boat,  and  offered  money  to  one  or  two  common  men 
who  had  been  of  assistance  to  us,  but  no  one  would  receive  it.  I 
italicise  the  remark,  because  the  Greeks  are  so  often  stigmatized 
as  utterly  mercenary. 

We  pulled  along  the  shore,  passing  round  the  point  on  which 
stands  a  single  fluted  column,  the  only  remains  of  a  magnificent 
temple  of  Venus,,  and,  getting  the  wind,  hoisted  a  sail,  and  ran 
down  the  northern  side  of  the  island  five  or  six  miles,  till  we 
arrived  opposite  the  mountain  on  which  stands  the  temple  of 
Jupiter  Panhdlenios.  The  view  of  it  from  the  sea  was  like  that  of 
a  temple  drawn  on  the  sky.  It  occupies  the  very  peak  of  the 
mountain,  and  is  seen  many  miles  on  either  side  by  the  mariner 
of  the  Egean. 

A  couple  of  wild-looking,  handsome  fellows,  bareheaded  and 
barelegged,  with  shirts  and  trowsers  reaching  to  the  knee,  lay  in 
a  small  caique  under  the  shore  ;  and,  as  we  landed,  the  taller  of 
the  two  laid  his  hand  on  his  breast,  and  offered  to  conduct  us  to 
the  temple.  The  ascent  was  about  a  mile. 

We  toiled  over  ploughed  fields,  with  here  and  there  a  cluster 
of  fig-trees,  wild  patches  of  rock  and  brier,  and '  an  occasional 
wall,  and  arrived  breathless  at  the  top,  where  a  cool  wind  met  us 
from  the  other  side  of  the  sea  with  delicious  refreshment. 

We  sat  down  among  the  ruins  of  the  oldest  temple  of  Greece 
after  that  of  Corinth.  Twenty-three  noble  columns  still  lifted 
their  heads  over  us,  after  braving  the  tempests  of  more  than  two 
thousand  years.  The  ground  about  was  piled  up  with  magnificent 
fragments  of  marble,  preserving,  e\vn  in  their  fall,  the  sharp 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  201 

edges  of  the  admirable  sculpture  of  Greece.  The  Doric  capital, 
the  simple  frieze,  the  well-fitted  frusta,  might  almost  be  restored 
in  the  perfection  with  which  they  were  left  by  the  last  touch  of 
the  chisel. 

The  view  hence  comprised  a  classic  world.  There  was  Athens  ! 
The  broad  mountain  over  the  intensely  blue  gulf  at  our  feet  was 
Hymettus,  and  a  bright  white  summit  as  of  a  mound  between  it 
and  the  sea,  glittering  brightly  in  the  sun,  was  the  venerable  pile 
of  temples  in  the  Acropolis.  To  the  left,  Corinth  was  distin 
guishable  over  its  low  isthmus,  and  Megara  and  Salamis,  and 
following  down  the  wavy  line  of  the  mountains  of  Attica,  the 
promontory  of  Sunium,  modern  Cape  Colonna,  dropped  the 
horizon  upon  the  sea.  One  might  sit  out  his  life  amid  these 
loftily-placed  ruins,  and  scarce  exhaust  in  thought  the  human 
history  that  has  unrolled  within  the  scope  of  his  eye. 

We  passed  two  or  three  hours  wandering  about  among  the 
broken  columns,  and  gazing  away  to  the  main  and  the  distant 
isles,  confessing  the  surpassing  beauty  of  Greece.  Yet  have  its 
mountains  scarce  a  green  spot,  and  its  vales  are  treeless  and 
uninhabited,  and  all  that  constitutes  desolation  is  there,  and 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  you  neither  miss  the  verdure,  nor  the 
people,  nor  find  it  desolate.  The  outline  of  Greece,  in  the  first 
place,  is  the  finest  in  the  world.  The  mountains  lean  down  into 
the  valleys,  and  the  plains  swell  up  to  the  mountains,  and  the 
islands  rise  from  the  sea,  with  a  mixture  of  boldness  and  grace 
altogether  peculiar.  In  the  most  lonely  parts  of  the  Egean, 
where  you  can  see  no  trace  of  a  human  foot,  it  strikes  you  like  a 
foreign  land.  Then  the  atmosphere  is  its  own,  and  it  exceeds 
that  of  Italy,  far.  It  gives  it  the  look  of  a  landscape  seen 
through  a  faintly-teinted  glass.  Soft  blue  mists  of  the  most 
9* 


202          SUMMER   CRUISE  JN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


rarefied  and  changing  shapes  envelop  the  mountains  on  the 
clearest  day,  and  without  obscuring  the  most  distant  points 
perceptibly,  give  hill  and  vale  a  beauty  that  surpasses  that  of 
verdure.  I  never  saw  such  air  as  I  see  in  Greece.  It  has  the 
same  effect  on  the  herbless  and  rocky  scenery  about  us,  as  a  veil 
over  the  face  of  a  woman. 

The  islander  who  had  accompanied  us  to  the  temple,  stood  on 
a  fragment  of  a  column,  still  as  a  statue,  looking  down  upon  the 
sea  toward  Athens.  His  figure  for  athletic  grace  of  mould,  and 
his  head  and  features,  for  the  expression  of  manly  beauty  and 
character,  might  have  been  models  to  Phidias.  The  beautiful 
and  poetical  land,  of  which  he  inherited  his  share  of  unparalleled 
glory,  lay  around  him.  I  asked  myself  why  it  should  have 
become,  as  it  seems  to  be,  the  despair  of  the  philanthropist. 
Why  should  its  people,  who,  in  the  opinion  of  Childe  Harold,  are 
"  nature's  favorites  still,"  be  branded  and  abandoned  as  irre 
claimable  rogues,  and  the  source  to  which  we  owe,  even  to  this 
day,  our  highest  models  of  taste,  be  neglected  and  forgotten  ? 
The  nine  days'  enthusiasm  for  Greece  has  died  away,  and  she 
has  received  a  king  from  a  family  of  despots.  But  there  seems 
to  me  in  her  very  beauty,  and  in  the  still  superior  qualities  of 
Ler  children,  wherever  they  have  room  for  competition,  a  promise 
of  resuscitation.  The  convulsions  of  Europe  may  leave  her 
soon  to  herself,  and  the  slipper  of  the  Turk,  and  the  hand  of 
the  Christian,  once  lifted  fairly  from  her  neck,  she  will  rise,  and 
stand  up  amid  these  imperishable  temples,  once  more  fre&  r 


LETTER   XXIII, 

Athens— Buins  of  the  Parthenon— The  Acropolis— Temple  of  Theseus— The  Oldest  of 
Athenian  Antiquities— Burial-Place  of  the  Son  of  Miaulis— Inflections  on  Standing 
where  Plato  Taught,  and  Demosthenes  Harangued— Bavarian  Sentinel— Turkish 
Mosqne,  erected  within  the  Sanctuary  of  th«  Parthenon— Wretched  Habitations  of  tho 
Modern  Athenians. 

EOEAN  SEA. — We  got  under  way  this  morning,  and  stood 
toward  Athens,  followed  by  the  sloop-of-war,  John  Adams,  which 
had  come  to  anchor  under  our  stern  the  evening  of  our  arrival  at 
Egina.  The  day  is  like  every  day  of  the  Grecian  summer, 
heavenly.  The  stillness  and  beauty  of  a  new  world  lie  about  us. 
The  ships  steal  on  with  their  clouds  of  canvass  just  filling  in  the 
light  breeze  of  the  Egean,  and  withdrawing  the  eye  from  tho 
lofty  temple  crowning  the  mountain  on  our  lee,  whose  shining 
columns  shift  slowly  as  we  pass  ;  we  could  believe  ourselves 
asleep  on  the  sea.  I  have  been  repeating  to  myself  the  beautiful 
reflection  of  Servius  Sulpitius,  which  occurs  in  his  letter  of 
condolence  to  Cicero,  on  the  death  of  his  daughter,  written  on 
this  very  spot.  *  "  On  my  return  from  Asia,"  he  says,  "  as  I 
was  sailing  from  Egina  toward  Megara,  I  begnn  to  contemplate 

*  "  Ex  Asia  rediens,"  etc.— I  have  given  the  translation  from  Middleton'a 
Cicero. 


204         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  prospect  of  the  countries  around  me.  Egina  was  behind, 
Megara  before  me  ;  Pirseus  on  the  right,  Corinth  on  the  left ;  all 
which  towns,  once  famous  and  flourishing,  now  lie  overturned  and 
buried  in  their  ruins  ;  upon  this  sight,  I  could  not  but  presently 
think  within  myself,  '  Alas  !  how  do  we  poor  mortals  fret  and 
vex  ourselves  if  any  of  our  friends  happen  to  die  or  be  killed, 
whose  life  is  yet  so  short,  when  the  carcases  of  so  many  cities  lie 
here  exposed  before  me  in  one  view.' " 

The  columns  of  the  Parthenon  are  easily  distinguishable  with 
the  glass,  and  to  the  right  of  the  Acropolis,  in  the  plain,  I  see  a 
group  of  tall  ruins,  which  by  the  position  must  be  near  the  banks 
of  the  Ilissus.  I  turn  the  glass  upon  the  sides  of  the  mount 
Hymettus,  whose  beds  of  thyme, "  the  long,  long  summer  gilds," 
and  I  can  scarce  believe  that  the  murmur  of  the  bees  is  not 
stealing  over  the  water  to  my  ear.  Can  this  be  Athens  ?  Are 
these  the  same  isles  and  mountains  Alcibiades  saw,  returning 
with  his  victorious  galleys  from  the  Hellespont  ;  the  same  that 
faded  on  the  long  gaze  of  the  conqueror  of  Salamis,  leaving  his 
ungrateful  country  for  exile  ;  the  same  that  to  have  seen,  for  a 
Roman,  was  to  be  complete  as  a  man ;  the  same  whose  proud 
dames  wore  the  golden  grasshopper  in  their  hair,  as  a  boasting 
token  that  they  had  sprung  from  the  soil ;  the  same  where 
Pericles  nursed  the  arts,  and  Socrates  and  Plato  taught 
"  humanity,"  and  Epicurus  walked  with  his  disciples,  looking  for 
truth  ?  What  an  offset  are  these  thrilling  thoughts,  with  the 
nearing  view  in  my  sight,  to  a  whole  calender  of  common 
misfortune  ! 

Dropped  anchor  in  the  Piraeus,  the  port  of  Athens.  The  city 
is  five  miles  in  the  interior,  and  the  "arms  of  Athens,"  as  the 
extending  walls  were  called,  stretched  in  the  times  of  the 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  205 

republic  from  the  Acropolis  to  the  sea.  The  Piraeus,  now 
nearly  a  deserted  port,  with  a  few  wretched  houses,  was  then  a 
large  city.  It  wants  an  hour  to  sunset,  and  I  am  about  starting 
with  one  of  the  officers  to  walk  to  Athens. 


Five  miles  more  sacred  in  history  than  those  between  the 
Pirseus  and  the  Acropolis,  do  not  exist  in  the  world.  We  walked 
them  in  about  two  hours,  with  a  golden  sunset  at  our  backs,  and 
the  excitement  inseparable  from  an  approach  to  "  the  eye  of 
Greece,"  giving  elasticity  to  our  steps.  ]NTear  the  Parthenon, 
which  had  been  glowing  in  a  flood  of  saffron  light  before  us,  the 
road  separated,  and  taking  the  right,  we  entered  the  city  by  its 
southern  gate.  A  tall  Greek,  who  was  returning  from  the  plains 
with  a  gun  on  his  shoulder,  led  us  through  the  narrow  streets  of 
the  modern  town  to  a  hotel,  where  a  comfortable  supper,  of  which 
the  most  attractive  circumstance  to  me  was  some  honey  from 
Hymettus,  brought  us  to  bed-time. 


"VVe  were  standing  under  the  colonnades  of  the  temples  of 
Theseus,  the  oldest,  and  the  best  preserved  of  the  antiquities  of 
Athens,  at  an  early  hour.  We  walked  around  it  in  wonder. 
The  sun  that  threw  inward  the  shadows  of  its  beautiful  columns, 
had  risen  on  that  eastern  porch  for  more  than  two  thousand 
years,  and  it  is  still  the  transcendent  model  of  the  world.  The 
Parthenon  was  a  copy  of  it.  The  now  venerable  and  ruined 
temples  of  Home,  were  built  in  its  proportions  when  it  was 
already  an  antiquity.  The  modern  edifices  of  every  civilized 
nation  are  considered  faulty  only  as  they  depart  from  it.  How 


206         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


little  dreamed  the  admirable  Grecian,  when  its  proportions  rose 
gradually  to  his  patient  thought,  that  the  child  of  his  teeming 
imagination  would  be  so  immortal  ! 

The  situation  of  the  Theseion  has  done  much  to  preserve  it. 
It  stands  free  of  the  city,  while  the  Parthenon  and  the  other 
temples  of  the  Acropolis,  being  within  the  citadel,  have  been 
battered  by  every  assailant,  from  the  Venetian  to  the  ikonoklast 
and  the  Turk.  It  looks  at  a  little  distance  like  a  modern 
structure,  its  parts  are  so  nearly  perfect.  It  is  only  on  coming 
close  to  the  columns  that  you  see  the  stains  in  the  marble  to  be 
the  corrosion  of  the  long-feeding  tooth  of  ages.  A  young 
Englishman  is  buried  within  the  nave  of  the  temple,  and  the  son 
of  Miaulis,  said  to  have  been  a  young  man  worthy  of  the  best 
days  of  Greece,  lies  in  the  eastern  porch,  with  the  weeds  growing 
rank  over  his  grave. 

We  passed  a  handsome  portico,  standing  alone  amid  a  heap  of 
ruins.  It  was  the  entrance  to  the  ancient  Agora.  Here 
assembled  the  people  of  Athens,  the  constituents  and  supporters 
of  Pericles,  the  first  possessors  of  these  god-like  temples.  Here 
were  sown,  in  the  ears  of  the  Athenians,  the  first  seeds  of  glory 
and  sedition,  by  patriots  and  demagogues,  in  the  stirring  days  of 
Plataja  and  Marathon.  Here  was  it  first  whispered  that 
Aristidcs  had  been  too  long  called  "the  just,"  and  that  Socrates 
corrupted  the  youth  of  Athens.  And,  for  a  lighter  thought,  it 
was  here  that  the  wronged  wife  of  Alcibiades,  compelled  to  come 
forth  publicly  and  sign  her  divorce,  was  snatched  up  in  the  arms 
of  her  brilliant,  but  dissolute  husband,  and  carried  forcibly  home, 
forgiving  him,  woman-like,  with  but  half  a  repentance.  The 
feeling  with  which  I  read  the  story  when  a  boy,  is  strangely  fresh 
in  my  memory. 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  207 

We  hurried  on  to  the  Acropolis.  The  ascent  is  winding  and 
difficult,  and,  near  the  gates,  encumbered  with  marble  rubbish. 
Volumes  have  been  written  on  the  antiquities  which  exist  still 
within  the  walls.  The  greater  part  of  four  unrivalled  temples 
are  still  lifted  to  the  sun  by  this  tall  rock  in  the  centre  of  Athens, 
the  majestic  Parthenon,  visible  over  half  Greece,  towering  above 
all.  A  Bavarian  soldier  received  our  passport  at  the  gate.  He 
was  resting  the  butt  of  his  musket  on  a  superb  bas-relief,  a 
fragment  from  the  ruins.  How  must  the  blood  of  a  Greek  boil 
to  see  a  barbarian  thus  set  to  guard  the  very  sanctuary  of  his 
glory. 

We  stood  under  the  portico  of  the  Parthenon,  and  looked  down 
on  Greece.  Right  through  a  broad  gap  in  the  mountains,  as  if 
they  had  been  swept  away  that  Athens  might  be  seen,  stood  the 
shining  Acropolis  of  Corinth.  I  strained  my  eyes  to  see 
Diogenes  lying  under  the  walls,  and  Alexander  standing  in  his 
sunshine.  "  Sea-born  Salamis"  was  beneath  me,  but  the  "  ships 
by  thousands"  were  not  there,  and  the  king  had  vanished  from 
his  "  rocky  throne"  with  his  u  men  and  nations."  .^Egina  lay 

•.   - .. 

far  down  the  gulf,  folded  in  its  blue  mist,  and  I  strained  my  sight 
to  see  Aristides  wandering  in  exile  on  its  shore.  "  Mars  Hill" 
was  within  the  sound  of  my  voice,  but  its  Areopagus  was 
deserted  of  its  judges,  and  the  intrepid  apostle  was  gone.  The 
rostrum  of  Demosthenes,  and  the  academy  of  Plato,  and  the 
banks  of  the  Ilissus,  where  Socrates  and  Zeno  taught,  were  all 
around  me,  but  the  wily  orator,,  and  the  philosopher,  "  on  whose 
infant  lips  the  bees  shed  honey  as  he  slept,"  and  he  whose  death 
and  doctrine  have  been  compared  to  those  of  Christ,  and  the 
self-denying  stoic,  were  alike  departed.  Silence  and  ruin  brood 
over  all ! 


208         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

I  walked  through  the  nave  of  the  Parthenon,  passing  a  small 
Turkish  mosque  (built  sacrilegiously  by  the  former  Disdar  of 
Athens,  within  its  very  sanctuary),  and  mounted  the  south 
eastern  rampart  of  the  Acropolis.  Through  the  plain  beneath 
ran  the  classic  Ilissus,  and  on  its  banks  stood  the  ruins  of  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  Olympus,  which  I  had  distinguished  with  the 
glass  in  coming  up  the  Egean.  The  Ilissus  was  nearly  dry,  but 
a  small  island  covered  with  verdure  divided  its  waters  a  short 
distance  above  the  temple,  and  near  it  were  distinguishable  the 
foundations  of  the  Lyceum.  Aristotle  and  his  Peripatetics 
ramble  there  no  more.  A  herd  of  small  Turkish  horses  were 
feeding  up  toward  Hymettus,  the  only  trace  of  life  in  a  valley 
that  was  once  alive  with  the  brightest  of  the  tides  of  human 
existence. 

The  sun  poured  into  the  Acropolis  with  an  intensity  I  have 
seldom  felt.  The  morning  breeze  had  died  away,  and  the  glare 
from  the  bright  marble  ruins  was  almost  intolerable  to  the  eye, 
I  climbed  around  over  the  heaps  of  fragmented  columns,  and 
maimed  and  fallen  statues,  to  the  northwestern  corner  of  the 
citadel,  and  sat  down  in  the  shade  of  one  of  the  embrasures  to 
look  over  toward  Plato's  academy.  The  part  of  the  city  below 
this  corner  of  the  wail  was- the  ancient  Pelasgicum.  It  was  from 
the  spot  where  I  sat  that  Parrhesiades,  the  fisherman,  is  repre 
sented  in  Lucian  to  have  angled  for  philosophers,  with  a  hook 
baited  with  gold  and  figs. 

The  academy  (to  me  the  most  interesting  spot  of  Athens)  is 
still  shaded  with  olive  groves,  as  in  the  time  of  Plato.  The 
Cuphissus,  whose  gentle  flow  has  mingled  its  murmur  with  so 
much  sweet  philosophy,  was  hidden  from  my  sight  by  the 
numberless  trees.  I  looked  toward  the  spot  with  inexpressible 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  209 


interest.  I  had  not  yet  been  near  enough  to  dispel  the  illusion. 
To  me,  the  academy  was  still  beneath  those  silvery  olives  in  all 
its  poetic  glory.  The  "  Altar  of  Love"  still  stood  before  the 
entrance  ;  the  temple  of  Prometheus,  the  sanctuary  of  the 
Muses,  the-  statues  of  Plato  and  of  the  Graces,  the  sacred  olive, 
the  tank  in  the  coal  gardens,  and  the  tower  of  the  railing  Timon 
were  all  there.  I  could  almost  have  waited  till  evening  to  see 
Epicurus  and  Leontium,  Socrates  and  Aspasia,  returning  to 
Athens. 

We  passed  the  Tower  of  the  Winds,  the  ancient  Klepsydra  or 
water-clock  of  Athens,  in  returning  to  the  hotel.  The  Eight 
Winds  sculptured  on  the  octagonal  sides,  are  dressed  according 
to  their  temperatures,  six  of  them  being  more  or  less  draped, 
and  the  remaining  two  nude.  It  is  a  small  marble  building,  more 
curious  than  beautiful. 

Our  way  lay  through  the  sultry  streets  of  modern  Athens.  I 
can  give  you  an-  idea  of  it  in  a  single  sentence.  It  is  a  large 
village,  of  originally  mean  houses,  pulled  down  to  the  very 
cellars,  and  lying  choked  in  its  rubbish.  A  large  square  in  ruins 
after  a  fire  in  one  of  our  cities,  looks  like  it.  It  has  been 
destroyed  so  often  by  Turks  and  Greeks  alternately,  that  scarce 
one  stone  is  left  upon  the  other.  The  inhabitants  thatch  over 
one  corner  of  these  wretched  and  dusty  holes  with  maize  stalks 
and  straw,  and  live  there  like  beasts.  The  fineness  of  the 
climate  makes  a  roof  almost  unnecessary  for  eight  months  in  the 
year.  The  consuls  and  authorities  of  the  place,  and  the  mission 
aries,  have  tolerable  houses,  but  the  paths  to  them  are  next  to 
impracticable  for  the  rubbish.  Nothing  but  a  Turkish  horse, 
which  could  be  ridden  up  a  precipice,  would  ever  pick  his  way 
through  the  streets. 


LETTER   XXIV, 

The  "Lantern  of  Dernosthenes"-Byron's  Residence  in  Athens-Temple  of  Jupiter  Olym 
pus,  Seven  Hundred  Years  in  Building-Superstitious  Fancy  of  the  Athenians  respect 
ing'  its  Ruins-Hermitage  of  a  Greek  Monk-Petarche*,  the  Antiquary  and  Poet,  and 
his  Wife,  Sister  to  the  "Maid  of  Athens"— Mutilation  of  a  Basso  Relievo  by  an  English 
Officer-The  Elgin  Marbles-The  Caryatides-Lord  Byron's  Autograph-Attachment 
of  the  Greeks  to  Dr.  Howe-The  Sliding  Stone-A  Scene  in  the  Rostrum  of  Demos 
thenes. 

TOOK  a  walk  by  sunset  to  the  Ilissus.  I  passed,  on  the  way, 
the  "  Lantern  of  Demosthenes,"  a  small  octagonal  building  of 
marble,  adorned  with  splendid  columns  and  a  beautifully-sculp 
tured  frieze,  in  which  it  is  said  the  orator  used  to  shut  himself 
for  a  month,  with  his  head  half  shaved,  to  practice  his  orations. 
The  Franciscan  convent,  Byron's  residence  while  in  Athens,  was 
built  adjoining  it.  It  is  now  demolished.  The  poet's  name  is 
written  with  his  own  hand  on  a  marble  slab  of  the  wall. 

I  left  the  city  by  the  gate  of  Hadrian,  and  walked  on  to  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  Olympus.  It  crowns  a  small  elevation  on  the 
northern  bank  of  the  Ilissus.  It  was  once  beyond  all  compari 
son  the  largest  and  most  costly  building  in  the  world.  During 
seven  hundred  years  it  employed  the  attention  of  the  rulers  of 
Greece,  from  Pisistratus  to  Hadrian,  and  was  never  quite  com 
pleted.  As  a  ruin  it  is  the  most  beautiful  object,  I  ever  s,w. 


SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN.  211 


Thirteen  columns  of  Pentclic  marble,  partly  connected  by  a 
frieze,  are  all  that  remain.  They  are  of  the  flowery  Corinthian 
order,  and  sixty  feet  in  height ,  exclusive  of  base  or  capital. 

Three  perfect  columns  stand  separate  from  the  rest,  and  lift 
from  the  midst  of  that  solitary  plain  with  an  effect  that,  to  my 
mind,  is  one  of  the  highest  sublimity.  The  sky  might  rest  on 
them.  They  seem  made  to  sustain  it.  As  I  lay  on  the  parched 
grass  and  gazed  on  them  in  the  glory  of  a  Grecian  sunset,  they 
seemed  to  me  proportioned  for  a  continent.  The  mountains  I 
saw  between  them  were  not  designed  with  more  amplitude,  nor 
corresponded  more  nobly  to  the  sky  above. 

The  people  of  Athens  have  a  superstitious  reverence  for  these 
ruins.  Dodwell  says,  "  The  single  column  toward. the  western 
extremity  was  thrown  down,  many  years  ago,  by  a  Turkish  voi- 
vode,  for  the  sake  of  the  inatemLs,  winch  \vere  employed  in  con 
structing  tin;  great  mosqu.;  of  the  bazar,  'i  h -".  A rher.inns  rela.tr, 
that,  after  it  was  throw:!  down,  the  th»e«  t.t!ie.,s  n-.-aix-st  it  were 
heard  to  lament  the  loss  of  their  sister  !  and  these  nocturnal 
lamentations  did  not  cease  till  the  sacrilegious  voivode  was  de 
stroyed  by  poison. 

Two  of  the  columns,  connected  by  one  immense  slab,  are  sur 
mounted  by  a  small  building,  now  in  ruins,  but  once  the  her 
mitage  of  a  Greek  monk.  Here  he  passed  his  life,  seventy  feet 
in  the  air,  sustained  by  two  of  the  most  graceful  columns  of 
Greece.  A  basket,  lowered  by  a  line,  was  filled  by  the  pious 
every  morning,  but  the  romantic  eremite  was  never  seen.  With 
the  lofty  Acropolis  crowned  with  temples  just  beyond  him,  the 
murmuring  Ilissus  below,  the  thyme-covered  sides  of  Hymettus 
to  the  south,  and  the  blue  Egean  stretching  away  to  the  west,  his 


212         SUMMER   CRUISE  IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 

eye,  at  least,  could  never  tire.     There  arc  times  when  I  could 
envy  him  his  lift  above  the  world. 

I  descended  to  the  Fountain  of  Cattirhoe,  which  gushes  from 
beneath  a  rock  in  the  bed  of  the  Ilissus,  just  below  the  temple. 
It  is  the  scene  of  the  death  of  the  lovely  nymph-mother  of  Gany 
mede.  The  twilight  air  was  laden  with  the  fragrant  thyme,  and 
the  songs  of  the  Greek  laborers  returning  from  the  fields  came 
faintly  over  the  plains.  Life  seems  too  short,  when  every  breath 
is  a  pleasure.  I  loitered  about  the  clear  and  rocky  lip  of  the 
fountain,  till  the  pool  below  reflected  the  stars  in  its  trembling 
bosom.  The  lamps  began  to  twinkle  in  Athens,  Hesperus  rose 
over  Mount  Pentilicus  like  a  blazing  lamp,  the  sky  over  Salamis 
faded  down  to  the  sober  teint  of  night,  and  the  columns  of  the 
Parthenon  mingled  into  a  single  mass  of  shade.  And  so,  I 
thoii2hfr,  as  I  strolled  back  to  the  city,  concludes  a  day  in 
Athens— out,  at  least,  in  my  life,  for  which  it  is  worth  the  trouble 

to!  i      li      !- 

i  \v:is.a--:iiu  iu  the  Acropolis  the  following  morning.  Mr.  Hill 
had  kindly  given  me  a  note  to  Petarchcs  the  king's  antiquary,  a 
voiing  Athenian,  who  married  the  sister  of  the  Maid  of  Athens.* 
We  v/  nt  together  through  the  ruins.  They  have  lately  made 
new  excavations,  and  some  superb  bassi-rdievi  are  among  the 
discoveries.  One  of  them  represented  a  procession  leading  vic 
tims  to  the  sacrifice,  and  was  quite  the  finest  tiling  I  ever  saw. 
The  leading  figure  was  a  superb  female,  from  the  head  of  which 
the  nose  had  lately  been  barbarously  broken.  Tho  face  of  the 

*  You  will  recollect  what  Byron  says  of  these  three  girls  in  one  of  his 
letters  to  Dr.  Drury  :  ''I  had  almost  forgot  to  tell  you,  that  I  am  dying 
for  love  of  three  Greek  girls,  at  Athens,  sisters.  1  lived  in  the  same  house. 
Teresa,  Marcama,  and  Katinka,  are  the  names  of  these  divinities— all  under 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  213 


enthusiastic  antiquary  flushed  while  I  was  lamenting  it.  It  was 
done,  he  told  me,  but  a  week  before,  by  an  officer  of  the  Eng 
lish  squadron  then  lying  at  the  Piraeus.  Petarches  detected  it 
immediately,  and  sent  word  to  the  admiral,  who  discovered  the 
heartless  Goth  in  a  nephew  of  an  English  duke,  a  midshipman  of 
his  own  ship.  I  should  not  have  taken  the  trouble  to  mention  so 
revolting  a  circumstance  if  I  had  not  seen,  in  a  splendid  copy  of 
the  u  Illustrations  of  Byron's  Travels  in  Greece,"  a  most  viru 
lent  attack  on  the  officers  of  the  Constellation,  and  Americans 
generally,  for  the  same  thing.  Who  but  Englishmen  have  robbed 
Athens,  and  Egina,  and  all  Greece  ?  Who  but  Englishmen  are 
watched  like  thieves  in  their  visits  to  every  place  of  curiosity  in 
the  world  ?  Where  is  the  superb  caryatid  of  the  Erechtheion  ? 
stolen,  with  such  barbarous  carelessness,  too,  that  the  remaining 
statues  and  the  superb  portico  they  sustained  are  tumbling  to  the 
ground  !  The  insolence  of  England's  laying  such  sins  at  the  door 
of  another  nation  is  insufferable. 

For  my  own  part,  I  cannot  conceive  the  motive  for  carrying 
away  a  fragment  of  a  statue  or  a  column.  I  should  as  soon 
think  of  drawing  a  tooth  as  a  specimen  of  some  beautiful  woman 
I  had  seen  in  my  travels.  And  how  one  dare  show  such  a  theft 
to  any  person  of  taste,  is  quite  as  singular.  Even  when  a  whole 
column  or  statue  is  carried  away,  its  main  charm  is  gone  with  the 
association  of  the  place.  I  venture  to  presume,  that  no  person 
of  classic  feeling  ever  saw  Lord  Elgin's  marbles  without  execrat 
ing  the  folly  that  could  bring  them  from  their  bright,  native  sky, 
to  the  vulgar  atmosphere  of  London.  For  the  love  of  taste,  let 
us  discountenance  such  barbarisms  in  America. 

The  Erechtheion  .and  the  adjoining  temple  are  gems  of  archi 
tecture.  The  small  portico  of  the  caryatides  (female  figures,  in 


214          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

the  place  of  columns,  with  their  hands  on  their  hips)  must  have 
been  one  of  the  most  exquisite  things  in  Greece.  One  of  them 
(fallen  in  consequence  of  Lord  Elgin's  removal  of  the  sister 
statue),  lies  headless  on  the  ground,  and  the  remaining  ones  are 
badly  mutilated,  but  they  arc  very,  very  beautiful.  I  remember 
two  in  the  Villa  Albani,  at  Rome,  brought  from  some  other  tem 
ple  in  Greece,  and  considered  the  choicest  gems  of  the  gallery. 

We  climbed  up  to  the  sanctuary  of  the  Erechtheion,  in  which 
stood  the  altars  to  the  two  elements  to  which  the  temples 
were'  dedicated.  The  sculpture  around  the  cornices  is  still  so 
sharp  that  it  might  have  been  finished  yesterday.  The  young 
antiquary  alluded  to  Byron's  anathema  against  Lord  Elgin,  in 
Childe  Harold,  and  showed  me,  on  the  inside  of  the  capital  of 
one  of  the  columns,  the  place  where  the  poet  had  written  his 
name.  It  was,  as  he  always  wrote  it,  simply  "  Byron,"  in  small 
letters,  and  would  not  be  noticed  by  an  ordinary  observer. 

If  the  lover,  as  the  poet  sings,  was  jealous  of  the  star  his  mis 
tress  gazed  upon,  the  sister  of  the  "  Maid  of  Athens"  may  well 
be  jealous  of  the  Parthenon.  Petarches  looks  at  it  and  talks  of 
it  with  a  fever  in  his  eyes.  I  could  not  help  smiling  at  his  enthu 
siasm.  He  is  about  twenty-five,  of  a  slender  person,  with  down 
cast,  melancholy  eyes,  and  looks  the  poet  according  to  the  most 
received  standard.  His  reserved  manners  melted  toward  me  on 
discovering  that  I  knew  our  countryman,  Dr.  Howe,  who,  he  tells 
me,  was  his  groomsman  (or  the  corresponding  assistant  at  a 
Greek  wedding),  and  to  whom  he  seems,  in  common  with  all  his 
countrymen,  warmly  attached.  To  a  man  of  his  taste,  I  can 
conceive  nothing  more  gratifying  than  his  appointment  to  the 
care  of  the  Acropolis.  He  spends  his  day  there  with  his  book, 
attending  the  few  travellers  who  come,  and  when  the  temples  arc 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  215 


deserted,  he  sits  down  in  the  shadow  of  a  column,  and  reads  amid 
the  silence  of  the  ruins  he  almost  worships.  There  are  few  voca 
tions  in  this  envious  world  so  separated  from  the  jarring  passions 
of  our  nature. 


Passed  the  morning  on  horseback,  visiting  the  antiquities  with 
out  the  city.  Turning  by  the  temple  of  Theseus,  we  crossed 
Mars  Hill,  the  seat  of  the  Areopagus,  and  passing  a  small  valley, 
ascended  the  Pnyx.  On  the  right  of  the  path  we  observed  the 
rock  of  the  hill  worn  to  the  polish  of  enamel  by  friction.  It  was 
uu  iilu.o*t  perpendicular  descent  of  six  or  seven  feet,  and  steps 
were  cut  at  the  sides  to  mount  to  the  top.  It  is  the  famous  slid 
ing  stone,  believed  by  the  Athenians  to  possess  the  power  of  de 
termining  the  sex  of  unborn  children.  The  preference  of  sons, 
if  the  polish  of  the  stone  is  to  be  trusted,  is  universal  in  Greece 

The  rostrum  of  Demosthenes  was  above  us  on  the  side  of  the 
hill  facing  from  the  sea.  A  small  rLtlbrm  is  cut  into  the  rocif, 
and  on  either  side  a  seat  is  hewn  out,  probably  for  the  distin 
guished  men  of  the  state.  The  audience  stood  on  the  side-hill, 
and  the  orator  and  his  listeners  were  in  the  open  air.  An  older 
rostrum  is  cut  into  the  summit  of  the  hill,  facing  the  sea.  It  is 
said  that  when  the  maritime  commerce  of  Greece  began  to  enrich 
the  lower  classes,  the  thirty  tyrants  turned  the  rostrum  toward 
the  land,  lest  their  orators  should  point  to  the  ships  of  tho  Piraeus, 
and  remind  the  people  of  their  power. 

Scene  after  scene  swept  through  my  fancy  as  I  stood  on  tho 
spot.  I  saw  Demosthenes,  after  his  first  unsuccessful  oration, 
descending  with  a  dejected  air  toward  the  temple  of  Theseus,  fol- 


2H5         SUMMER   CRUISE  IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


lo-.V'-ii  by  old  Eunomus  ;*  abandoning  himself  to  despair,  and 
repressing  the  fiery  consciousness  within  him  as  a  hopeless  ambi 
tion.  I  saw  him  again,  with  the  last  glowing  period  of  a  Phillipio 
on  his  lips,  standing  on  -this  rocky  eminence,  his  arm  stretched 
toward  Macedon  ;  his  eye  flashing  with  success,  and  his  ear 
catching  the  low  murmur  of  the  crowd  belowj  which  told  him  he 
had  moved  his  country  as  with  the  heave  of  an  earthquake.  I 
saw  the  calm  Aristides  rise,  with  his  mantle  folded  majestically 
about  him  ;  and  the  handsome  Aleibiados  waiting  with  a  smile  on 
his  lips  to  speak  ;  and  Socrates,  gazing  on  his  wild  but  winning 
disciple  with  affection  and  fear  How  easily  is  this  bare  rock, 
whereon  th'o  eagle  now  alights  unafirighted,  repcopled  with  the 
crowding  shadows  of  the  past. 

*  Cl  However,  in  his  iirst  address  to  the  people,  he  was  laughed  at  and  in- 
tern.'j'tecl  by  their  clamors;  for  the  violence  of  his  manner  threw  him  h.to  a 
oor.fiuitin  of  periods,  and  a  distortion  of  his  argument.  At  last,  upon  his 
ijuiuiii':  the  asi-enibly,  Euncmus,  the  Thriasian,  a  man  now  extremely  old. 
found  i;;!:'i  wandering  in  a  dejected  condition  in  the  Pirceus.  and  took  upon 
I.-UR  tjsK  h:n  r;{jht'1-*-"''«.'tt"-VJ  ftf*.  of  Demottkeiut. 


LETTER   XXV, 

The  Prison  of  Socrates— Turkish  Stirrups  and  Saddles— Plato's  Academy— The  American 
.Missionary  School  at  Athens— The  Son  of  Petarches  and  Nephew  of  "  Mrs.  Black  of 
Egina." 

ATHENS. — We  dismounted  at  the  door  of  Socrates'  prison. 
A  bill  between  the  Areopagus  and  the  sea,  is  crowned  with  the 
remains  of  a  showy  monument  to  a  Roman  pro-consul.  Just  be 
neath  it  the  hill  forms  a  low  precipice,  and  in  the  face  of  it  you 
t>oo  three  low  entrances  to  caverns  hewn  in  the  solid  rock.  The 
farthest  to  the  right  was  the  room  of  the  Athenian  guard,  and 
within  it  is  a  chamber  with  a  round  ceiling,  which  the  sage  occu 
pied  during  the  thirty  days  of  his  imprisonment.  There  are 
marks  of  an  iron  door  which  separated  it  from  the  guard-room, 
and  through  the  bars  of  this  he  refused  the  assistance  of  his 
friends  to  escape,  and  held  those  conversations  with  Onto,  Plato, 
and  others.,  which  have  made  his  name  immortal.  On  the  day 
upon  wi.ich  he  was  doomed  to  die,  he  was  removed  to  the  cham 
ber  nearest  the  Acropolis,  and  here  the  hemlock  was  presented 
to  him.  A  shallower  excavation  between,  held  'an  altar  to  the 
gods ;  and  after  his  death,  his  body  was  here  given  to  his  friends. 

Nothing,  except  some  of  the  touching  narrations  of  scripture, 
ever  seemed  to  me  so  affecting  as  the  history  of  the  death  of 
10 


218          SUMMER   CRU1SK   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


Socrates.  It  has  been  likened  (I  think,  not  profanely),  to  the 
death  of  Christ.  His  virtuous  life,  his  belief  in  the  immortality 
of  the  soul  and  a  future  state  of  reward  and  punishment,  his  for 
giveness  of  his  enemies  and  his  godlike  death,  certainly  provo 
him,  in  the  absence  of. revealed  light,  to  have  walked  the  "  dark 
ling  path  of  human  reason''  with  an  almost  inspired  rectitude.  I 
stood  in  the  chamber  which  had  received  his  last  breath,  not 
without  emotion.  The  rocky  walls  about  me  had  witnessed  his 
composure  as  he  received  the  cup  from  his  weeping  jailer  ;  the 
roughly-hewn  floor  beneath  my  feet  had  sustained  him,  as  he 
walked  to  and  fro,  till  the  poison  had  chilled  his  limbs  ;  his  last 
sigh,  as  he  covered  his  head  with  his  mantle  and  expired,  passed 
forth  by  that  low  portal.  It  is  not  easy  to  be  indifferent  on  spots 
like  these.  The  spirit  of  the  place  is  felt.  We  cannot  turn 
back  and  touch  the  brighter  links  of  that  "  fleshly  chain,"  in 
which  all  human  beings  since  the  creation  have  been  bound  alike 
without  feeling,  even  through  the  rusty  coil  of  ages,  the  electric 
sympathy.  Socrates  died  here  !  The  great  human  leap  into 
eternity,  the  inevitable  calamity  of  our  race,  was  here  taken  more 
nobly  than  elsewhere.  Whether  the  effect  be  to  "  fright  us  from 
the  shore,"  or,  to  nerve  us  by  the  example,  to  look  more  steadily 
before  us,  a  serious  thought,  almost  of  course  a  salutary  one, 
lurks  in  the  very  air. 

We  descended  the  hill  and  gallopped  our  small  Turkish  horses 
at  a  stirring  pace  over  the  plain.  The  short  stirrup  and  hiirh 
peaked  .saddle  of  the  country,  are  (at  least  to  men  of  my  len^fh 
and  limb)  uncomfortable  contrivances.  With  the  knees  almost 
up  to  the  chin,  one  is  compelled,  of  course,  to  lean  far  over  the 
horse's  head,  and  it  requires  all  the  fullness  of  Turkish  trousers 
to  conceal  the  awkwardness  of  the  position.  We  drew  rein  at  the 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  219 


entrance  of  the  "  olive  grove."  Our  horses  walked  leisurely 
along  the  shaded  path  between  the  trees,  and  we  arrived  in  a  few 
minutes  at  the  site  of  Plato"1?,  academy.  The  more  ethereal  por 
tion  of  my  pleasure  in  seeing  it  must  be  in  the  recollection.  The 
Cephissus  was  dry,  the  noon-day  sun  was  hot,  and  we  were  glad 
to  stop,  \vifh  throbbing  temples,  under  a  cluster  of  fig-trees,  and 
eat  the  delicious  fruii,  ibi gutting  fill  the  philosophers  inconti 
nently.  We  sat  in  our  saddles,  and  a  Greek  woman,  of  great 
natural  beauty,  though  dressed  in  rags,  bent  down  the  boughs  to 
our  reach.  The  honey  from  the  over-ripe  figs,  dropped  upon  us 
as  the  wind  shook  the  branches.  Our  dark-eyed  and  bright-lipped 
Pomona  served  us  with  a  grace  and  cheerfulness  that  would  draw 
me  often  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  academy  if  I  lived  in  Athens. 
I  venture  to  believe  that  Phryne  herself,  in  so  mean  a  dress, 
would  scarce  have  been  more  attractive.  We  kissed  our  hand  to 
her  as  our  spirited  horses  leaped  the  hollow  with  which  the  trees 
were  encircled,  and  passing  the  mound  sacred  to  the  Furies, 
where  (Edipus  was  swallowed  up,  dashed  over  the  sultry  plain 
once  more,  and  were  soon  in  Athens. 


I  have  passed  most  of  my  leisure  hours  here  in  a  scene  I 
certainly  did  not  reckon  in  anticipation,  among  the  pleasures  of  a 
visit  to  Athens — the  American  missionary  school.  We  have  all 
been  delighted  with  it,  from  the  commodore  to  the  youngest 
midshipman.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hill  have  been  here  some  four  or 
five  years,  and  have  attained  their  present  degree  of  success  in 
the  face  of  every  difficulty.  Their  whole  L  ;mber  of  scholars 


220          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

from  the  commencement,  has  been  upward  of  three  hundred  ;  at 
present  they  have  a  hundred  and  thirty,  mostly  girls. 

We  found  the  school  in  a  new  and  spacious  stone  building  on 
the  site  of  the  ancient  "  market,"  where  Paul,  on  his  visit  to 
Athene,  "disputed  daily  with  those  that  met  with  him."  A 
large  court-yard,  shaded  partly  with  a  pomegranate-tree,  separates 
it  from  the  marble  portico  of  the  Agora,  which  is  one  of  the 
finest  remains  of  antiquity.  Mrs.  Hill  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
little  Athenians.  Two  or  three  serious- looking  Greek  girls  were 
assisting  her  in  regulating  their  movements,  and  the  new  and 
admirable  system  of  combined  instruction  and  amusement  was 
going  on  swimmingly.  There  were,  perhaps,  a  hundred  children 
in  the  benches,  mostly  from  three  to  six  or  eight  years  of  age ; 
dark-eyed,  cheerful  little  creatures,  who  looked  as  if  their 
"  birthright  of  the  golden  grasshopper"  had  made  them  nature's 
favorites  as  certainly  as  in  the  days  when  their  ancestor-mothers 
settled  questions  of  philosophy.  They  inarched  and  recited,  and 
clapped  their  sun-burnt  hands,  and  sung  hymns,  and  I  thought  I 
never  had  seen  a  more  gratifying  spectacle.  I  looked  around  in 
vain  for  one  who  seemed  discontented  or  weary.  Mrs.  HilPs 
manner  to  them  was  most  affectionate.  She  governs,  literally 
with  a  smile. 

I  selected  several  little  favorites.  One  was  a  fine  fellow  of 
two  to  three  years,  whose  name  I  inquired  immediately.  '  He  was 
Plato  Petarches,  the  nephew  of  the  "  maid  of  Athens,"  and  the 
son  of  the  second  of  the  three  girls  so  admired  by  Lord  Byron. 
Another  was  a  girl  of  six  or  seven,  with  a  face,  surpassing,  for 
expressive  beauty,  that  of  any  "child  I  ever  saw.  She  was  a 
Hydriote  by  birf  ,  and  dressed  in  the  costume  of  the  islands. 
Her  little  feet  vvcre  in  Greek  slippers ;  her  figure  was  prettily 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  221 

set  off  with  an  open  jacket,  laced  with  buttons  from  the  shoulder 
to  the  waist,  and  her  head  was  enveloped  in  a  figured  handker 
chief,  folded  gracefully  in  the  style  of  a  turban,  and  brought 
under  her  chin,  so  as  to  show  suspended  a  rich  metallic  fringe.' 
Her  face  was  full,  but  marked  with  childish  dimples,  and  her 
mouth  and  eyes,  as  beautiful  as  ever  those  expressive  features 
were  made,  had  a  retiring  seriousness  in  them,  indescribably 
sweet.  She  looked  as  if  she  had  been  born  in  some  scene  of 
Turkish  devastation,  and  had  brought  her  mother's  heart-ache 
into  the  world. 

At  noon,  at  the  sound  of  a  bell,  they  marched  out,  clapping 
their  hands  in  time  to  the  instructor's  voice,  and  seated  them 
selves  in  order  upon  the  portico,  in  front  of  the  school.  Here 
their  baskets  were  given  them,  and  each  one  produced  her  dinner 
and  eat  it  with  the  utmost  propriety.  It  was  really  a  beautiful 
scene. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  here  are  educated  a  class  of 
human  beings  who  were  else  deprived  of  instruction  by  the 
universal  custom  of  their  country.  The  females  of  Greece  are 
suffered  to  grow  up  in  ignorance.  One  who  can  read  and  write 
is  rarely  found.  The  school  has  commenced  fortunately  at  the 
most  favorable  moment.  The  government  was  in  process  of 
change,  and  an  innovation  was  unnoticed  in  the  confusion  that  at 
a  later  period  might  have  been  opposed  by  the  prejudices  of 
custom.  The  king  and  the  president  of  the  regency,  Count 
Armansperg,  visited  the  school  frequently  during  their  stay  in 
Athens,  and  expressed  their  thanks  to  Mrs.  Hill  warmly.  The 
Countess  Armansperg  called  repeatedly  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
sitting  in  the  school-room  for  an  hour.  His  majesty,  indeed, 
could  hardly  find  a  more  useful  subject  in  his  realm.  Mrs.  Hill, 


222         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

with  her  own  personal  efforts,  has  taught  more  than  one,  hundred 
children  to  read  the,  Bible  !  How  few  of  us  can  write  against  our 
names  an  equal  offset  to  the  claims  of  human  duty  ? 

Circumstances  made  me  acquainted  with  one  or  two  wealthy 
persons  residing  in  Athens,  and  I  received  from  them  a  strong 
impression  of  Mr.  Hill's  usefulness  and  high  standing.  His 
house  is  the  hospitable  resort  of  every  stranger  of  intelligence 
and  respectability. 

Mr.  King  and  Mr.  Robinson,  missionaries  of  the  Foreign 
Board,  are  absent  at  Psera.  Their  families  are  here. 

I  passed  my  last  evening  among  the  magnificent  ruins  on  the 
banks  of  the  Ilissus.  The  next  day  was  occupied  in  returning 
visits  to  the  families  who  had  been  polite  to  us,  and,  with  a 
farewell  of  unusual  regret  to  our  estimable  missionary  friends,  we 
started  on  horseback  to  return  by  a  gloomy  sunset  to  the  Piraeus. 
I  am  looking  more  for  the  amusing  than  the  useful  in  my  rambles 
about  the  world,  and  I  confess  I  should  not  have  gone  far  out  of 
my  way  to  visit  a  missionary  station  anywhere.  But  chance  has 
thrown  this  of  Athens  across  my  path,  and  I  record  it  as  a  moral 
spectacle  to  which  no  thinking  person  could  be  indifferent.  I 
freely  say  I  never  have  met  with  an  equal  number  of  my  fellow- 
creatures,  who  seemed  to  me  so  indisputably  and  purely  useful. 
The  most  cavilling  mind  must  applaud  their  devoted  sense  of 
duty,  bearing  up  against  exile  from  country  and  friends,  priva 
tions,  trial  of  patience,  and  the  many,  many  ills  inevitable  to  such 
an  errand  in  a  foreign  land,  while  even  the  coldest  politician 
would  find  in  their  efforts  the  best  promise  for  an  enlightened 
renovation  of  Greece. 

Long  after  the   twilight  thickened  immediately  about  us,  the 
lofty  Acropolis  stood  up,  bathed  in  a  glow  of  light  from  the 


ON   BOARD  AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  223 

lingering  sunset.  I  turned  back  to  gaze  upon  it  with  an  enthusi 
asm  I  had  thought  laid  on  the  shelf  with  my  half-forgotten 
classics.  The  intrinsic  beauty  of  the  ruins  of  Greece,  the 
loneliness  of  their  situation,  and  the  divine  climate  in  which,  to 
use  Byron's  expression,  they  are  "  buried,"  invest  them  with  an 
interest  which  surrounds  no  other  antiquities  in  the  world.  I 
rode  on,  repeating  to  myself  Milton's  beautiful  description  : 

"  Look  !  on  the  Egean  a  city  stands 
Built  nobly;  pure  the  air  and  light  the  soil 
Athens — the  eye  of  Greece,  mother  of  arts 
And  eloquence  ;  native  to  famous  wits 
Or  hospitable,  in  her  sweet  recess 
City  or  suburban,  studious  walks  or  shades. 
See,  there  the  olive  groves  of  Academe, 
Plato's  retirement,  where  the  attic  bird 
Trills  her  thick- warbled  notes  the  summer  long. 
There,  flowery  hill,  Hymettus,  with  the  sound 
Of  bees'  industrious  murmurs,  oft  invites 
To  studious  musing ;  there  Ilissus  rolls 
His  whispering  stream ;  within  the  walls  there  view 
The  schools  of  ancient  sages,  his  who  bred 
Great  Alexander  to  subdue  the  world  !" 


uin 


LETTEtt  XXVI, 

The  Piraeus— The  Sacra  Via— Ruins  of  Eleusis— Gigantic  Medallion— C^tumo  of  the 
Athenian  Women— The  Tomb  of  Themistoc'es—  The  Temple  of  Minerva— Autographs. 

PIRJEUS. — With  a  basket  of  ham  and  claret  in  the  stern- sheets, 
a  cool  awning  over  our  heads,  and  twelve  men  at  the  oars,  such 
as  the  coxswain  of  Thernistocles'  galley  might  have  sighed  for, 
we  pulled  away  from  the  ship  at  an  early  hour,  for  Eleusis.  The 
conqueror  of  Salamis  delayed  the  battle  for  the  ten  o'clock 
breeze,  and  as  nature  (which  should  be  called  he  instead  of  she, 
for  her  constancy)  still  ruffles  the  Egean  at  the  same  hour,  we 
had  a  calm  sea  through  the  strait,  where  once  lay  the  u  ships  by 
thousands." 

We  soon  rounded  the  point,  and  shot  along  under  the 

"  Rocky  brow 
Which  looks  o'er  sea-born  Salamis." 

It  is  a  bare,  bold  precipice,  a  little  back  from  the  sea,  and 
commands  an  entire  view  of  the  strait.  Here  sat  Xerxes,  "  on 
his  throne  of  gold,*  with  many  secretaries  about  him  to  write 

*  So  says  Phanodemus,  quoted  by  Plutarch.  The  commentators  upon 
the  tragedy  of  ^Eschylus  on  this  subject,  say  it  was  a  "silver  chair,"  and 
that  it  "was  afterward  placed  in  the  temple  of  Minerva,  at  Athens,  with  the 
golden-lulted  cimeter  of  Mardonius." 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.          225 


down  the  particulars  of  the  action."  The  Athenians  owed  their 
victory  to  the  wisdom  of  Themistocles,  who  managed  to  draw  the 
Persians  into  the  strait  (scarce  a  cannon  shot  across  just  here), 
where  only  a  small  part  of  their  immense  fleet  could  act  at  one 
time.  The  wind,  as  the  wily  Greek  had  foreseen,  rose  at  the 
same  time,  and  rendered  the  lofty-built  Persian  ships  unmanage 
able  ;  while  the  Athenian  galleys,  cut  low  to  the  water,  were 
easily  brought  into  action  in  the  most  advantageous  position.  It 
is  impossible  to  look  upon  this  beautiful  and  lovely  spot  and 
imagine  the  stirring  picture  it  presented.  The  wild  sea-bird 
knows  no  lonelier  place.  Yet  on  that  rock  once  sat  the  son  of 
Darius,  with  his  royal  purple  floating  to  the  wind,  and,  below 
him,  within  these  rocky  limits,  lay  "  one  thousand  two  hundred 
ships-of-war,  and  two  thousand  transports,"  while  behind  him  on 
the  shores  of  th«  Piraeus,  were  encamped  "  seven  hundred 
thousand  foot,  an.l  four  hundred  thousand  horse," — "amounting," 
says  Potter,  in  his  notes,  "  with  the  retinue  of  women  and 
servants  that  attended  the  Asiatic  princes  in  their  military 
expeditions,  to  more  than  Jive  millions."  How  like  a  king  must 
the  royal  Persian  have  felt,  whon 

"  He  counted  them  at  break  of  day  I" 

With  an  hour  or  two  of  fast  pulling,  we  opened  into  the  broad 
bay  of  Eleusis.  The  first  Sabbath  after  the  creation  could  not 
have  been  more  absolutely  silent.  Megara  was  away  on  the 
left,  Eleusis  before  us  at  the  distance  of  four  or  five  miles,  and 
the  broad  plains  where  agriculture  was  first  taught  by  Triptole- 
mus,  the  poetical  home  of  Ceres,  lay  an  utter  desert  in  the 
sunshine.  Behind  us,  between  the  mountains,  descended  the 
Sacra  Via,  by  which  the  procession  came  to  Athens  to  celebrate 


226  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  "  Eleusinian  mysteries" — a  road  of  five  or  six  miles,  lined,  in 
the  time  of  Pericles,  with  temples  and  tombs.  I  could  half 
fancy  the  scene,  as  it  was  presented  to  the  eyes  of  the  invading 
Macedonians — when  the  procession  of  priests  and  virgins, 
accompanied  by  the  whole  population  of  Athens,  wound  down 
into  the  plain,  guarded  by  the  shining  spears  of  the  army  of 
Alcibiades.  It  is  still  doubtful,  I  believe,  whether  these 
imposing  ceremonies  were  the  pure  observances  of  a  lofty  and 
sincere  superstition,  or  the  orgies  of  licentious  saturnalia. 

"We  landed  at  Eleusis,  and  were  immediately  surrounded  by  a 
crowd  of  people,  as  simple  and  curious  in  their  manners,  and 
resembling  somewhat  in  their  dress  and  complexion,  the  Indians 
of  our  country.  The  ruins  of  a  great  city  lay  about  us,  and  their 
huts  were  built  promiscuously  among  them.  Magnificent  frag 
ments  of  columns  and  blocks  of  marble  interrupted  the  path 
through  the  village,  and  between  two  of  the  houses  lay,  half 
buried,  a  gigantic  medallion  of  Pentelic  marble,  representing,  in 
alto  relievo,  the  body  and  head  of  a  warrior  in  full  armor.  A 
hundred  men  would  move  it  with  difficulty.  Commodore  Patter 
son  attempted  it  six  years  ago,  in  the  "  Constitution,"  but  his 
launch  was  found  unequal  to  its  weight. 

The  people  here  gathered  more  closely  round  the  ladies  of  our 
jvn-ty,  examining  their  dress  with  childish  curiosity.  They  were 
•  itiuutless  the  first  females  ever  seen  at  Eleusis  in  European 
costume.  One  of  the  ladies  happening  to  pull  off  her  glove, 
there  was  a  general  cry  of  astonishment.  The  brown  kid  had 
clearly  been  taken  as  the  color  of  the  hand.  Some  curiosity  was 
then  shown  to  see  their  faces,  which  were  covered  with  thick 
green  veils,  as  a  protection  against  the  sun.  The  sight  of  their 


ON   BOARD  AN   AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  227 


complexion  (in  any  country  remarkable  for  a  dazzling  whiteness) 
completed  the  astonishment  of  these  children  of  Ceres. 

We,  on  our  part,  were  scarcely  less  amused  by  their  costumes 
in  turn.  Over  the  petticoat  was  worn  a  loose  jacket  of  white 
cloth  reaching  to  the  knee,  and  open  in  front — its  edges  and 
sleeves  wrought  very  tastefully  with  red  cord.  The  head-dress 
was  composed  entirely  of  money.  A  fillet  of  gold  sequins  was 
first  put,  a  la  feronierc,  around  the  forehead,  and  a  close  cap, 
with  a  throat-piece  like  the  gorget  of  a  helmet,  fitted  the  skull 
exactly,  stitched  with  coins  of  all  values,  folded  over  each  other 
according  to  their  sizes,  like  scales.  The  hair  was  then  braided 
and  fell  down  the  back,  loaded  also  with  money.  Of  the  fifty  or 
sixty  women  we  saw,  I  should  think  one  half  had  money  on  her 
head  to  the  amount  of  from  one  to  two  hundred  dollars.  They 
suffered  us  to  examine  them  with  perfect  good  humor.  The 
greater  proportion  of  pieces  were  paras,  a  small  and  thin  Turkish 
coin  of  very  small  value.  Among  the  larger  pieces  were  dollars 
of  all  nations,  five-franc  pieces,  Sicilian  piastres,  Tuscan  colonati, 
Venetian  swansicas,  etc.,  etc.  I  doubted  much  whether  they 
were  not  the  collection  of  some  piratical  caique.  There  is  no 
possibility  of  either  spending  or  getting  money  within  many  miles 
of  Eleusis,  and  it  seemed  to  be  looked  upon  as  an  ornament 
which  they  had  come  too  lightly  by  to  know  its  use. 

We  walked  over  the  foundations  of  several  large  temples  with 
the  remains  of  their  splendor  lying  unvalued  about  them,  and  at 
a  mile  from  the  village  came  to  the  "  well  of  Proserpine," 
whence,  say  the  poets,  the  ravished  daughter  of  Ceres  emerged 
from  the  infernal  regions  on  her  visit  to  her  mother.  The 
modern  Eleusinians  know  it  only  as  a  well  of  the  purest  water. 

On  our  return,  we  stopppd  at  the  southern  point  of  the  Piraeus, 


226         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


to  see  the  tomb  of  Themistochs.  We  were  directed  to  it  by 
thirteen  or  fourteen  frusta  of  enormous  columns,  which  once 
formed  the  monument  to  his  memory.  They  "buried  him  close  to 
the  edge  of  the  sea,  opposite  Salamis.  The  continual  beat  of 
the  waves  for  so  many  hundred  years  has  worn  away  the 
promontory,  and  his  sarcophagus,  which  was  laid  in  a  grave  cut  in 
the  solid  rock,  is  now  filled  by  every  swell  from  the  Egean. 
The  old  hero  was  brought  back  from  his  exile  to  be  gloriously 
buried.  He  could  not  lie  better  for  the  repose  of  his  spirit  (if  it 
returned  with  his  bones  from  Argos).  The  sea  on  which  he  beat 
the  haughty  Persians  with  his  handful  of  galleys,  sends  every 
wave  to  his  feet.  The  hollows  in  the  rock  around  his  grave  are 
full  of  snowy  salt  left  by  the  evaporation.  You  might  scrape  up 
a  bushel  within  six  feet  of  him.  It  seems  a  natural  tribute  to  his 
memory.* 

On  a  high  and  lonely  rock,  stretching  out  into  the  midst  of  the 
sea,  stands  a  solitary  temple.  As  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  along 
the  coast  of  Attica  and  to  the  distant  isles,  there  is  no  sign  of 
human  habitation.  There  it  stands,  lifted  into  the  blue  sky  of 
Greece,  like  the  unreal  "  fabric  of  a  vision." 

Cape  Colonna  and  its  "  temple  of  Minerva,"  were  familiar  to 
my  memory,  but  my  imagination  had  pictured  nothing  half  so 
beautiful.  As  we  approached  it  from  the  sea,  it  seemed  so 
strangely  out  of  place,  even  for  a  ruin,  so  far  removed  from  what 
had  ever  been  the  haunt  of  man,  that  I  scarce  credited  my  eyes. 
We  could  soon  count  them — thirteen  columns  of  sparkling 
marble,  glittering  in  the  sun.  The  sea-air  keeps  them  spotlessly 

#  Langhorne  says  in  his  notes  on  Plutarch,  "There  is  the  genuine  attic 
salt  in  most  of  the  re'orts  and  observations  of  themselves.  His  wit  seems  to 
have  been  equal  to  his  military  and  political  capacity." 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  229 


white,  and,  until  you  approach  them  nearly,  they  have  the 
appearance  of  a  structure,  from  its  freshness,  still  in  the  sculp 
tor's  hands. 

The  boat  was  lowered,  and  the  ship  lay  off-and-on  while  we 
landed  near  the  rocks  where  Falconer  was  shipwrecked,  and 
mounted  to  the  temple.  The  summit  of  the  promontory  is 
strewn  with  the  remains  of  the  fallen  columns,  and  their  smooth 
surfaces  are  thickly  inscribed  with  the  names  of  travellers 
Among  others,  I  noticed  Byron's  and  Hobhouse's,  and  that  of 
the  agreeable  author  of  "a  year  in  Spain."  Byron,  by  the 
way,  mentions  having  narrowly  escaped  robbery  here,  by  a  band 
of  Mairiote  pirates.  II  o  w:;s  surprised  swimming  off"  the  point, 
by  an  English  vessel  containing  some  ladies  of  his  acquaintance. 
He  concludes  the  "  Isles  of  Greece"  beautifully  with  an  allusion 
to  it  by  its  ancient  name  : 

"  Place  me  on  Sunium's  marble  steep,"  etc. 

The  view  from  the  summit  is  one  of  the  finest  in  all  Greece. 
The  isle  where  Plato  was  sold  as  a  glave,  and  where  Aristides 
and  Demosthenes  passed  their  days  in  exile,  stretches  along  the 
west ;  the  wide  Egean,  sprinkled  with  here  and  there  a  solitary 
rock,  herbless,  but  beautiful  in  its  veil  of  mist,  spreads  away 
from  its  feet  to  the  southern  line  of  the  horizon,  and  crossing 
each  other  almost  imperceptibly  on  the  light  winds  of  this  summer 
sea,  the  red-sailed  caique  of  (Ireece,  the  merchantmen  from  the 
Dardanelles,  and  the  heavy  men-of-war  of  England  and  France, 
cruising  wherever  the  wind  blows  fairest,  are  seen  like  broad- 
winged  and  solitary  birds,  lying  low  with  spread  pinions  upon  the 
waters.  The  place  touched  me.  I  shall  remember  it  with  an 
affection. 


230  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


There  is  a  small  island  close  to  Sunium,  which  was  fortified  by 
one  of  the  heroes  of  the  Iliad  on  his  return  from  Troy — why, 
heaven  only  knows.  It  was  here,  too,  that  Phrontes,  the  pilot 
of  Menelaus,  died  and  was  buried. 

We  returned  on  board  after  an  absence  of  two  hours  from  the 
ship,  and  are  steering  now  straight  for  the  Dardanelles.  The 
plains  of  Marathon  are  but  a  few  hours  north  of  our  course,  and 
I  pass  them  unwillingly  ;  but  what  is  there  one  would  not  see  ? 
Greece  lies  behind,  and  I  have  realized  one  of  my  dearest 
dreams  in  rambling  over  its  ruins.  Travel  is  an  appetite  that 
"  grows  by  what  it  feeds  on." 


LETTER    XXVIT, 

Mytilene— The  Tomb  of  Achilles— Turkish  Burying  Ground— Lost  Reputation  of  the  Sca- 
mander— Asiatic  Sunsets— Visit  to  a  Turkish  Bey— The  Castles  of  the  Dardanelles- 
Turkish  Bath,  and  its  Consequences. 

LESBOS  to  windward.  A  caique,  crowded  with  people,  is  run 
ning  across  our  bow,  all  hands  singing  a  wild  chorus  (perhaps  the 
Lcsboun  Carmen),  most  merrily.  The  island  is  now  called 
Mytilene,  said  to  be  the  greenest  and  most  fertile  of  the  Medit 
erranean.  The  Lesbean  wine  is  still  good,  but  they  have  had  no 
poetesses  since  Sappho.  Cause  and  effect  have  quarrelled,  one 
would  think. 

Tenedos  on  the  lee.  The  tomb  of  Achilles  is  distinguishable 
with  the  glass  on  the  coast  of  Asia.  The  column  which  Alex 
ander  "  crowned  and  anointed  and  danced  around  naked,"  in 
honor  of  the  hero's  ghost,  stands  above  it  no  longer.  The 
Macedonian  wept  over  Achilles,  says  the  school-book,  and  envied 
him  the  blind  bard  who  had  sung  his  deeds.  He  would  have 
dried  his  tears  if  he  had  known  that  his  pas  seul  would  be 
remembered  as  long. 

Tenedos  seems  a  pretty  island  as  we  near  it.  It  was  here  that 
the  Greeks  hid,  to  persuade  the  Trojans  that  they  had  abandoned 
the  siege,  while  the  wooden  horse  was  wheeled  into  Troy.  The 
site  of  the  city  of  Priam  is  visible  as  we  get  nearer  the  coast  of 


232         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


Asia.  Mount  Ida  and  the  marshy  valley  of  the  Scamander  are 
appearing  beyond  Cape  Sigseum,  and  we  shall  anchor  in  an  hour 
between  Europe  and  Asia,  in  the  mouth  of  the  rapid  Dardanelles. 
The  wind  is  not  strong  enough  to  stem  the  current  that  sets 
down  like  a  mill-race  from  the  sea  of  Marmora. 

Went  ashore  on  the  Asian  side  for  a  ramble.  We  landed  at 
the  strong  Turkish  castle  that,  with  another  on  the  European 
side,  defends  the  strait,  and  passing  under  their  bristling  batter 
ies,  entered  the  small  Turkish  town  in  the  rear.  Our  appearance 
excited  a  great  deal  of  curiosity.  The  Turks,  who  were  sitting 
cross-legged  on  the  broad  benches  extending  like  a  tailor's  board, 
in  front  of  the  cafes,  stopped  smoking  as  we  passed,  and  the 
women,  wrapping  up  their  own  faces  more  closely,  approached  the 
ladies  of  our  party,  and  lifted  their  veils  to  look  at  them  with  the 
freedom  of  our  friends  at  Eleusis.  We  came  unaware  upon  two 
squalid  wretches  of  women  in  turning  a  corner,  who  pulled  their 
ragged  shawls  over  their  heads  with  looks  of  the  greatest  resent 
ment  at  having  exposed  their  faces  to  us. 

A  few  minutes'  walk  brought  us  outside  of  the  town.  An 
extensive  Turkish  grave-yard  lay  on  the  left.  Between  fig-trees 
and  blackberry  bushes  it  was  a  green  spot,  and  the  low  tomb 
stones  of  the  men,  crowned  each  with  a  turban  carved  in  marble 
of  the  shape  befitting  the  sleeper's  rank,  peered  above  the  grass 
like  a  congregation  sitting  in  .a  uniform  head-dress  at  a  field- 
preaching.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  female  graves,  which  were 
marked  with  a  slab  like  ours,  and  here  and  there  the  tombstone 
of  a  Greek,  carved,  after  the  antique,  in  the  shape  of  a  beautiful 
shell,  the  effect  of  an  assemblage  sur  Vherle  would  have  been 
ludicrously  perfect. 

We  walked  on  to  the  Scamander.     A  ricketty  bridge  gave  us 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  333 


a  passage,  toll  free,  to  the  other  side,  where  we  sat  round  the  rim 
of  a  marble  well,  and  ate  delicious  grapes,  stolen  for  us  by  a 
Turkish  boy  from  a  near  vineyard.  Six  or  seven  camels  were 
feeding  on  the  unenclosed  plain,  picking  a  mouthful,  and  then 
lifting  their  long,  snaky  necks  into  the  air  to  swallow  ;  a  stray 
horseman,  with  the  head  of  his  bridle  decked  with  red  tassels  and 
his  knees  up  to  his  chin,  scoured  the  bridle  path  to  the  moun 
tains  ;  and  three  devilish-looking  buffaloes  scratched  their  hides 
and  rolled  up  their  fiendish  green  eyes  under  a  bramble-hedge 
near  the  river.  Voila  !  a  scene  in  Asia. 

The  poets  lie,  or  the  Scamander  is  as  treacherous  as  Macassar. 
Venus  bathed  in  its  waters  before  contending  for  the  prize  of 
beauty  adjudged  to  her  on  this  very  Mount  Ida  that  I  see 
covered  with  brown  grass  in  the  distance.  Her  hair  became 
"  flowing  gold"  in  the  lavation.  My  friends  compliment  me  upon 
no  change  after  a  similar  experiment.  My  long  locks  (run  riot 
with  a  four  months'  cruise)  are  as  dingy  and  untractable  as  ever, 
and,  except  in  the  increased  brownness  of  a  Mediterranean  com 
plexion,  the  cracked  glass  in  the  state-room  of  my  friend  the 
lieutenant  give  me  no  encouragement  of  a  change.  It  is  soft 
water,  and  runs  over  fine  white  sand  ;  but  the  fountain  of  Callir- 
hoe,  at  Athens  (she  was  the  daughter  of  the  Scamander,  and  like 
most  daughters,  is  much  more  attractive  than  her  papa),  is  softer 
and  clearer.  Perhaps  the  loss  of  the  Scamander's  virtues  is 
attributable  to  the  cessation  of  the  tribute  paid  to  the  god  in 
Helen's  time. 

The  twilights  in  this  part  of  the  world  are  unparalleled — but  I 
have  described  twilights  and  sunsets  in  Greece  and  Italy  till  I  am 
ashamed  to  write  the  words.  Each  one  comes  as  if  there  never 
had  been  and  never  were  to  be  another,  and  the  adventures  of  the 


234         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


day,  however  stirring,  are  half  forgotten  in  its  glory,  and  seem, 
in  comparison,  unworthy  of  description  ;  but  one  look  at  the 
terms  that  might  describe  it,  written  on  paper,  uncharrns  even 
the  remembrance.  You  must  come  to  Asia  and  feel  sunsets. 
You  cannot  get  them  by  paying  postage. 


At  anchor,  waiting  for  a  wind.  Called  to-day  on  the  Bey 
Effendi,  commander  of  the  two  castles,  "  Europe'7  and  "  Asia," 
between  which  we  lie.  A  pokerish-looking  dwarf,  with  ragged 
beard  and  high  turban,  and  a  tall  Turk,  who  I  am  sure  never 
smiled  since  he  was  born,  kicked  off  their  slippers  at  the  thresh 
old,  and  ushered  us  into  a  chamber  on  the  second  story.  It  was 
a  luxurious  little  room,  lined  completely  with  cushions,  the 
muslin-covered  pillows  of  down  leaving  only  a  place  for  the  door. 
The  divan  was  as  broad  as  a  bed,  and,  save  the  difficulty  of 
rising  from  it,  it  was  perfect  as  a  lounge.  A  ceiling  of  inlaid 
woods,  embrowned  with  smoke,  windows  of  small  panes  fantasti 
cally  set,  and  a  place  lower  than  the  floor  for  the  attendants  to 
stand  and  leave  their  slippers,  were  all  that  was  peculiar  else. 


The  bey  entered  in  a  few  minutes,  with  a  pipe-bearer,  an  inter 
preter,  and  three  or  four  attendants.  He  was  a  young  man, 
about  twenty,  and  excessively  handsome.  A  clear,  olive  com 
plexion,  a  mustache  of  silky  black,  a  thin,  aquiline  nose,  with 
almost  transparent  nostrils,  cheeks  and  chin  rounded  into  a  per 
fect  oval,  and  mouth  and  eyes  expressive  of  the  most  resolute 
firmness,  and  at  the  same  time,  girlishly  beautiful,  completed  the 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  235 


picture  of  the  finest-looking  fellow  I  have  seen  within  my  recol 
lection.  His  person  was  very  slight,  and  his  feet  and  hands 
small,  and  particularly  well  shaped.  Like  most  of  his  country 
men  of  later  years,  his  dress  was  half  European,  and  much  less 
becoming,  of  course,  than  the  turban  and  trowser.  Pantaloons, 
rather  loose,  a  light  fawn-colored  short-jacket,  a  red  cap,  with  a 
blue  tassel,  and  stockings,  without  shoes,  were  enough  to  give 
him  the  appearance  of  a  dandy  half  through  his  toilet.  He 
entered  with  an  indolent  step,  bowed,  without  smiling,  and 
throwing  one  of  his  feet  under  him,  sunk  down  upon  the  divan, 
and  beckoned  for  his  pipe.  The  Turk  in  attendance  kicked  off 
his  slippers,  and  gave  him  the  long  tube  with  its  amber  mouth 
piece,  setting  the  bowl  into  a  basin  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 
The  bey  put  it  to  his  handsome  lips,  and  drew  till  the  smoke 
mounted  to  the  ceiling,  and  then  handed  it,  with  a  graceful  ges 
ture,  to  the  commodore. 

The  conversation  went  on  through  two  interpretations.  The 
bey's  interpreter  spoke  Greek  and  Turkish,  and  the  ship's  pilot, 
who  accompanied  us,  spoke  Greek  and  English,  and  the  usual 
expressions  of  good  feeling,  and  offers  of  mutual  service,  were 
thus  passed  between  the  puffs  of  the  pipe  with  sufficient  facility. 
The  dwarf  soon  entered  with  coffee.  The  small  gilded  cups  had 
about  the  capacity  of  a  goodwife's  thimble,  and  were  covered 
with  gold  tops  to  retain  the  aroma.  The  fragrance  of  the  rich 
berry  filled  the  room.  We  acknowledged,  at  once,  the  superior 
ity  of  the  Turkish  manner  of  preparing  it.  It  is  excessively 
strong,  and  drunk  without  milk. 

I  looked  into  every  corner  while  the  attendants  were  removing 
the  cups,  but  could  see  no  trace  of  a  look.  Ten  or  twelve  guns, 
with  stocks  inlaid  with  pearl  and  silver,  two  or  three  pair  of  gold- 


236        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


handled  pistols,  and  a  superb  Turkish  cimetar  and  belt,  hung 
upon  the  walls,  but  there  was  no  other  furniture.  We  rose,  after 
a  half  hour's  visit,  and  were  bowed  out  by  the  handsome  effendi, 
coldly  and  politely.  As  we  passed  under  the  walls  of  the  castle, 
on  the  way  to  the  boat,  we  saw  six  or  seven  women,  probably  a 
part  of  his  harem,  peeping  from  the  embrasures  of  one  of  the 
bastions.  Their  heads  were  wrapped  in  white,  one  eye  only  left 
visible.  It  was  easy  to  imagine  them  Zulcikas  after  having  seen 
their  master. 

Went  ashore  at  Castle  Europe,  with  one  or  two  of  the  officers, 
to  take  a  bath.  An  old  Turk,  sitting  upon  his  hams,  at  the 
entrance,  pointed  to  the  low  door  at  his  side,  without  looking  at 
us,  and  we  descended,  by  a  step  or  two,  into  a  vaulted  hall,  with 
a  large,  circular  ottoman  in  the  centre,  and  a  very  broad  divan 
all  around.  Two  tall  young  mussulmans,  with  only  turbans  and 
waistcloths  to  conceal  their  natural  proportions,  assisted  us  to 
undress,  and  led  us  into  a  stone  room,  several  degrees  warmer 
than  the  first.  We  walked  about  here  for  a  few  minutes,  and,  as 
we  began  to  perspire,  were  taken  into  another,  filled  with  hut 
vapor,  and,  for  the  first  moment  or  two,  almost  intolerable.  It 
was  shaped  like  a  dome,  with  twenty  or  thirty  small  windows  at 
the  top,  several  basins  at  the  sides  into  which  hot  water  w;;s 
pouring,  and  a  raised  stone  platform  in  the  centre,  upon  which 
we  were  all  requested,  by  gestures,  to  lie  upon  our  backs.  The 
perspiration,  by  this  time,  was  pouring  from  us  like  rain.  I  lay 
down  with  the  others,  and  a  Turk,  a  dark-skinned,  fine-looking 
fellow,  drew  on  a  mitten  of  rough  grass  cloth,  and  laying  one 
hand  upon  my  breast  to  hold  rne  steady,  commenced  rubbing  me, 
without  water,  violently.  The  skin  peeled  off  under  the  friction, 
and  1  thought  he  must  have  rubbed  into  the  flesh  repeatedly. 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  237 


Nothing  but  curiosity  to  go  through  the  regular  operation  of  a 
Turkish  bath  prevented  my  crying  out  "  enough  !"  He  rubbed 
away,  turning  me  from  side  to  bide,  till  the  rough  glove  passed 
smoothly  all  over  my  body  and  limbs,  and  then  handing  me  a 
pair  of  wooden  slippers,  suffered  me  to  rise.  I  walked  about  for 
a  few  minutes,  looking  with  surprise  at  the  rolls  of  skin  he  had 
taken  from  me,  and  feeling  almost  transparent  as  the  hot  air 
blew  upon  me. 

In  a  few  minutes  my  mussulman  beckoned  to  me  to  follow  him 
to  a  smaller  room,  where  he  seated  me  on  a  stone  beside  a  fount 
of  hot  water.  He  then  made  some  thick  soap-suds  in  a  basin, 
and,  with  a  handful  of  fine  flax,  soaped  and  rubbed  me  all  over 
again,  and  a  few  dashes  of  the  hot  water,  from  a  wooden  saucer, 
completed  the  bath. 

The  next  room,  which  had  seemed  so  warm  on  our  entrance, 
was  now  quite  chilly.  We  remained  here  until  we  were  dry,  arid 
then  returned  to  the  hall  in  which  our  clothes  were  left,  where 
beds  were  prepared  on  the  divans,  and  we  were  covered  in  warm 
cloths,  and  left  to  our  repose.  The  disposition  to  sleep  was 
almost  irresistible.  We  rose  in  a  short  time,  and  went  to  the 
coffee-house  opposite,  when  a  cup  of  strong  coffee,  and  a  hookah 
smoked  through  a  highly  ornamented  glass  bubbling  with  water, 
refreshed  us  deliciously. 

I  have  had  ever  since  a  feeling  of  suppleness  and  lightness, 
which  is  like  wings  growing  at  my  feet.  It  is  certainly  a  very 
great  luxury,  though,  unquestionably,  most  enervating  as  a  habit. 


LETTER  XXVIII, 

A  Turkish  Pic-Nic,  ou  the  plain  of  Troy— Finger*  vs.  Forks— Trieste— The  Boschetto— 
Graceful  freedom  of  Italian  Manners — A  Eural  F6to — Fireworks — Amateur  Musicians. 

DARDANELLES. — The  oddest  invitation  I  ever  had  in  my  life 
was  from  a  Turkish  bey  to  a  fete  champfore,  on  the  ruins  of 
Troy  !  We  have  just  returned,  full  of  wassail  and  pillaw,  by 
the  light  of  an  Asian  moon. 

The  morning  was  such  a  one  as  you  would  expect  in  the 
country  where  mornings  were  first  made.  The  sun  was  clear, 
but  the  breeze  was  fresh,  and  as  we  sat  on  the  bey's  soft  divans, 
taking  coffee  before  starting,  I  turned  my  cheek  to  the  open 
window,  and  confessed  the  blessing  of  existence. 

We  were  sixteen,  from  the  ship,  and  our  boat  was  attended 
by  his  interpreter,  the  general  of  his  troops,  the  governor  of 
13ournabashi  (the  name  of  the  Turkish  town  near  Troy),  and  a 
host  of  attendants  on  foot  and  horseback.  His  cook  had  been 
sent  forward  at  daylight  with  the  provisions. 

The  handsome  bey  came  to  the  door,  and  helped  to  mount  us 
upon  his  own  horses,  and  we  rode  on,  with  the  whole  population 
cf  the  village  assembled  to  see  our  departure.  We  forded  the 
Scamander,  near  the  town,  and  pushed  on  at  a  hard  gallop  over 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.         239 


the  plain.  The  bey  soon  overtook  us  upon  a  fleet  gray  mare, 
caparisoned  with  red  trappings,  holding  an  umbrella  over  his 
head,  which  he  courteously  offered  to  the  commodore  on  coming 
up.  We  followed  a  grass  path,  without  hill  or  stone,  for  nine  or 
ten  miles,  and  after  having  passed  one  or  two  hamlets,  with  their 
open  thrashing-floors,  and  crossed  the  Simois,  with  the  water  to 
our  saddle-girths,  we  left  a  slight  rising  ground  by  a  sudden  turn, 
and  descended  to  a  cluster  of  trees,  where  the  Turks  sprang  from 
their  horses,  and  made  signs  for  us  to  dismount. 

It  was  one  of  nature's  drawing-rooms.  Thickets  of  brush  and 
willows  enclosed  a  fountain,  whose  clear  waters  were  confined  in 
a  tank,  formed  of  marble  slabs,  from  the  neighboring  ruins.  A 
spreading  tree  above,  and  soft  meadow-grass  to  its  very  tip,  left 
nothing  to  wish  but  friends  and  a  quiet  mind  to  perfect  its 
beauty.  The  cook's  fires  were  smoking  in  the  thicket,  the 
horses  were  grazing  without  saddle  or  bridle  in  the  pasture 
below,  and  we  laid  down  upon  the  soft  Turkish  carpets,  spread 
beneath  the  trees,  and  reposed  from  our  fatigues  for  an  hour. 

The  interpreter  came  when  the  sun  had  slanted  a  little  across 
the  trees,  and  invited  us  to  the  bey's  gardens,  hard  by.  A  path, 
overshadowed  with  wild  brush,  led  us  round  the  little  meadow  to 
a  gate,  close  to  the  fountain-head  of  the  Scamander.  One  of  the 
common  cottages  of  the  country  stood  upon  the  left,  and  in  front 
of  it  a  large  arbor,  covered  with  a  grape-vine,  was  underlaid  with 
cushions  and  carpets.  Here  we  reclined,  and  coffee  was  brought 
us  with  baskets  of  grapes,  figs,  quinces,  and  pomegranates,  the 
bey  and  his  officers  waiting  on  us  themselves  with  amusing 
assiduity.  The  people  of  the  house,  meantime,  were  sent  to  the 
fields  for  green  corn,  which  was  roasted  for  us,  and  this  with 
nuts,  wine,  and  conversation,  and  a  ramble  to  the  source  of  the 


' 


240        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


Simois,  which  bursts  from  a  cleft  in  the  rock  very  beautifully, 
whiled  away  the  hours  till  dinner. 

About  four  o'clock  we  returned  to  the  fountain.  A  white 
muslin  cloth  was  laid  upon  the  grass  between  the  edge  and  the 
overshadowing  tree,  and  all  around  it  were  spread  the  carpets 
upon  which  we  were  to  recline  while  eating.  Wine  and  melons 
were  cooling  in  the  tank,  and  plates  of  honey  and  grapes,  and 
new-made  butter  (a  great  luxury  in  the  archipelago,),  stood  on 
the  marble  rim.  The  dinner  might  have  fed  Priam's  army. 
Half  a  lamb,  turkeys,  and  chickens,  were  the  principal  meats, 
but  there  was,  besides,  "  a  rabble  route"  of  made  dishes,  peculiar 
to  the  country,  of  ingredients  at  which  I  could  not  hazard  even  a 
conjecture. 

We  crooked  our  legs  under  us  with  some  awkwardness,  and 
producing  our  knives  and  forks  (which  we  had  brought  with  the 
advice  of  the  interpreter),  commenced,  somewhat  abated  in 
appetite  by  too  liberal  a  lunch.  The  bey  and  his  officers  sitting 
upright,  with  their  feet  under  them,  pinched  off  bits  of  meat 
dexterously  with  the  thumb  and  forefinger,  passing  from  one  to 
the  other  a  dish  of  rice,  with  a  large  spoon,  which  all  used 
indiscriminately.  It  is  odd  that  eating  with  the  fingers  seemed 
only  disgusting  to  me  in  the  bey.  His  European  dress  probably 
made  the  peculiarity  more  glaring.  The  fat  old  governor  who 
sat  beside  me  was  greased  to  the  elbows,  and  his  long  gray  beard 
was  studded  with  rice  and  drops  of  gravy  to  his  girdle.  He  rose 
when  the  meats  were  removed,  and  waddled  off  to  the  stream 
below,  where  a  wash  in  the  clean  water  made  him  once  more  a 
presentable  person. 

It  is  a  Turkish  custom  to  rise  and  retire  while  the  dishes  are 
changing,  and  after  a  little  ramble  through  the  meadow,  we 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  241 


returned  to  a  lavish  spread  of  fruits  and  honey,  which  concluded 
the  repast. 

It  is  doubted  where  Troy  stood.  The  reputed  site  is  a  rising 
ground,  near  the  fountain  of  Bournabashi,  to  which  we  strolled 
after  dinner.  We  found  nothing  but  quantities  of  fragments  of 
columns,  believed  by  antiquaries  to  be  the  ruins  of  a  city,  that 
sprung  up  and  died  long  since  Troy. 

We  mounted  and  rode  home  by  a  round  moon,  whose  light 
filled  the  air  like  a  dust  of  phosphoric  silver.  The  plains  were 
in  a  glow  with  it.  Our  Indian  summer  nights,  beautiful  as  they 
are,  give  you  no  idea  of  an  Asian  moon. 

The  bey's  rooms  were  lit,  and  we  took  coffee  with  him  once 
more,  and,  fatigued  with  pleasure  and  excitement,  got  to  our 
boats,  and  pulled  up  against  the  arrowy  current  of  the  Dardanelles 
to  the  frigate. 

******* 

A  long,  narrow  valley,  with  precipitous  sides,  commences 
directly  at  the  gate  of  Trieste,  and  follows  a  small  stream  into 
the  mountains  of  Friuli.  It  is  a  very  sweet,  green  place,  and 
studded  on  both  sides  with  cottages  and  kitchen-gardens,  which 
supply  the  city  with  flowers  and  vegetables.  The  right  hand 
slope  is  called  the  Boschetto,  and  is  laid  out  with  pretty  avenues 
of  beach  and  elm  as  a  public  walk,  while,  at  every  few  steps, 
stands  a  bowling-alley  or  drinking  arbor,  and  here  and  there  a 
trim  little  restaurant,  just  large  enough  for  a  rural  party.  It  is, 
perhaps,  a  mile  and  a  half  in  length,  and  one  grand  cafe '  in  the 
centre,  usually  tempts  the  better  class  of  promenaders  into  the 
expense  of  an  ice. 

It  was  a  Sunday  afternoon,  and  all  Trieste  was  pouring  out 
to  the  Boschctto.     I  had  come  ashore  with  one  of  the  officers, 
11 


242         SUMMER   CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


and  we  fell  into  the  tide.  Few  spots  in  the  world  are  so  various 
ly  peopled  as  this  thriving  seaport,  and  we  encountered  every 
style  of  dress  and  feature.  The  greater  part  were  Jewesses. 
How  instantly  the  most  common  observer  distinguishes  thorn  in  a 
crowd  !  The  clear  sallow  skin,  the  sharp  black  eye  and  broad 
eyebrow,  the  aqueline  nose,  the  small  person,  the  slow,  cautious 
step  of  the  old,  and  the  quick,  restless  one  of  the  younsj,  the 
ambitious  ornaments,  and  the  look  of  cunning,  winch  nothing  but 
the  highest  degree  of  education  does  away,  mark  the  race  with 
the  definiteness  of  another  species. 

We  strolled  on  to  the  end  of  the  walk,  amused  constantly  with 
the  family  groups  sitting  under  the  trees  with  their  simple  repast 
of  a  fritnta  and  a  mug  of  beer,  perfectly  unconscious  of  the 
presence  of  the  crowd.  There  was  something  pastoral  and 
contented  in  the  scene  that  took  my  fancy.  Almost  all  the 
female  promenaders  were  without  bonnets,  and  the  mixture  of  the 
Greek  style  of  head-dress  with  the  Parisian  coiffure,  had  a 
charming  effect.  There  was  just  enough  of  fashion  to  take  off 
the  vulgarity. 

We  coquetted  along,  smiled  upon  by  here  and  there  a  group 
that  /had  visited  the  ship,  and  on  our  return  sat  down  at  a  table 
in  front  of  the  cafe,  surrounded  by  some  hundreds  of  people  of 
all  classes,  conversing  and  eating  ices.  T  thought  as  I  glanced 
about  me,  how  oddly  such  a  scene  would  look  in  America.  In 
the  broad  part  of  an  open  walk,  the  whole  town  passing  and 
repassing,  sat  elegantly  dressed  ladies,  with  their  husbands  or 
lovers,  mothers  with  their  daughters,  and  occasionally  a  group  of 
modest  girls  alone,  eating  or  drinking  with  as  little  embarrassment 
as  at  home,  and  preserving  toward  each  other  that  courtesy  of 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  243 

deportment  which  in  these  classes  of  society  can  result  only  from 
being  so  much  in  public. 

Under  the  next  tr-e  to  us  sat  an  excessively  pretty  woman 
with  two  gentlemen,  probably  her  husband  and  cavalier.  I 
touched  my  hat  to  them  as  we  seated  ourselves,  and  this  common 
courtesy  of  the  country  was  returned  with  smiles  that  put  us 
instantly  upon  the  footing  of  a  half  acquaintance.  A  caress  to 
the  lady's  greyhound,  arid  an  apology  for  smoking,  produced  a 
little  conversation,  and  when  they  rose  to  leave  us,  the  compli 
ments  of  the  evening  were  exchanged  with  a  cordiality  that  in 
America  would  scarce  follow  an  acquaintance  of  months.  I 
mention  it  as  an  every-day  instance  of  the  kindrhearted  and  open 
manners  of  Europe,  it  is  what  makes  these  countries  so  aoree- 

o 

able  to  the  stranger  and  the  traveller.     Every  cafe,  on  a  second 
visit,  seems  like  a  home. 


We  were  at  a  rural  fefe  last  night,  given  by  a  wealth.;  . 
of  Trieste,  at  his  villa  in  the  neighborhood.  We  found  tho 
company  assembled  on  a  terraced  observatory,  crowning  a 
summer-house,  watching  the  sunset  over  one  of  the  sweetest 
landscapes  in  the  world.  "We  were  at  the  head  of  a  vall-y, 
broken  at  the  edge  of  the  Adriatic  by  the  city,  and  beyond 
spread  the  golden  waters  of  the  gulf  toward  Venice,  headed  in  on 
the  right  by  the  long  chain  of  the  Friuli.  The  country  around 
was  green  and  fertile,  and  small  white  villas  peeped  out  every 
where  Irom  the  foliage,  evidences  of  the  prosperous  commerce  of 
the  town.  We  watched  the. warm  colors  out  of  the  sky,  and  tho 


244         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


party  having  by  this  time  assembled,  we  walked  through  the  long 
gardens  to  a  house  open  with  long  windows  from  the  ceiling  to  the 
floor,  and  furnished  only  with  the  light  and  luxurious  arrange 
ment  of  summer. 

Music  is  the  life  of  all  amusement  within  the  reach  of  Italy, 
and  the  waltzing  was  mingled  with  performances  on  the  piano 
(and  very  wonderful  ones  to  me)  by  an  Italian  count  and  his 
friend,  a'  German.  They  played  duetts  in  a  style  I  have  seldom 
heard  even  by  professors. 

The  supper  was  fantastically  rural.  The  table  was  spread 
under  a  large  tree,  from  the  branches  of  which  was  trailed  a 
vine,  by  a  square  frame  of  lattice-work  in  the  proportions  of  a 
pretty  saloon.  The  lamps  were  hung  in  colored  lanterns  among 
the  branches,  and  the  trunk  of  the  tree  passed  through  the  centre 
of  the  table  hollowed  to  receive  it.  The  supper  was  sumptuous 
ly  spl i-ndid,  and  th«*  effect  of  the  party  within,  seen  from  the 
g  ounds  about,  through  the  arched  and  vine-concealed  doors,  was 
the  iuo»t  picturesque  imaginable. 

A  waltz  or  two  followed,  and  we  were  about  calling  for  our 
horses,  when  the  whole  place  was  illuminated  with  a  discharge  of 
fi'eworks.  Every  description  of  odd  figures  was  described  in 
flame  during  the  hour  they  detained  us,  and  the  bright  glare  on 
the  trees,  and  the  figures  of  the  party  strolling  up  and  down  the 
gravelled  walks,  was  admirably  beautiful. 

They  do  these  things  so  prettily  here  !  We  were  invited  out 
on  the  morning  of  the  same  day,  and  expected  nothing  but  a 
drive  and  a  cup  of  tea,  and  we  found  an  entertainment  worthy 
of  a  king.  The  simplicity  and  frankness  with  which  w*.  were 
received,  and  the  unpretendingness  of  the  manner  of  introducing 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  245 


the   amusements   of  the   evening,  might  have  been  lessons  in 
politeness  to  nobles. 

A  drive  to  town  by  starlight,  and  a  pull  off  to  the  ship  in  the 
cool  and  refreshing  night  air,  concluded  a  day  of  pure  pleasure 
It  has  been  my  good  fortune  of  late  to  number  many  such. 


LETTER   XXIX, 

The  Dardanelles—Visit  from  the  Pacha— His  Delight  at  hearing  the  Tiano— Turkish  Foua- 
tains — Caravan  of  Mules  laden  with  Grapes— Turkish  Mode  of  Living — Houses.  Cafes, 
and  Women — The  Mosque  and  the  Muezzin— American  Consul  of  the  Dardanelles,  an 
other  Caleb  Quotem. 

COAST  OF  ASIA. — We  have  lain  in  the  mouth  of  the  Darda 
nelles  sixteen  mortal  days,  waiting  for  a  wind.  Like  Don  Juan 
(who  passed  here  on  his  way  to  Constantinople)— 

"  Another  time  we  might  have  liked  to  see  'em, 
But  now  are  not  much  pleased  with  Cape  Sigaeum." 

An  occasional  trip  with  the  boats  to  the  watering-place,  a  Turk 
ish  bath,  and  a  stroll  in  the  bazaar  of  the  town  behind  the  castle, 
gazing  with  a  glass  at  the  tombs  of  Ajax  and  Achilles,  and  the 
long,  undulating  shores  of  Asia,  eating  often  and  sleeping  much, 
are  the  only  appliances  to  our  philosophy.  One  cannot  always 
be  thinking  of  Hero  and  Leander,  though  he  lie  in  the  Helles 
pont. 

A  merchant-brig  from  Smyrna  is  anchored  just  astern  of  us, 
waiting  like  ourselves  for  this  eternal  northeaster  to  blow  itself 
out.  She  has  forty  or  fifty  passengers  for  Constantinople,  among 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.        247 


whom  are  the  wife  of  an  American  merchant  (a  Greek  lady),  and 
Mr.  Schauffler,  a  missionary,  in  whom  I  recognised  a  quondam 
fellow-student.  They  were  nearly  starved  on  board  the  brig,  as 
she  was  provisioned  but  for  a  few  days,  and  the  commodore  has 
courteously  ofiered  them  a  passage  in  the  frigate.  Fifty  or  sixty 
sail  lie  below  Castle  Europe,  in  the  same  predicament.  With  the 
u  cap  of  King  Erricus,"  this  cruising,  pleasant  as  it  is,  would  be 
a  thought  pleasanter  to  my  fancy. 


Still  wind-bound.     The  angel  that 

''  Looked  o'er  my  almanac 
And  crossed  out  my  ill-days,'7 

suffered  a  week  or  so  to  escape  him  here.  Not  that  the  ship  ia 
not  pleasant  enough,  and  the  climate  deserving  of  its  Sybarite 
fame,  and  the  sunsets  and  stars  as  much  brighter  than  those  of 
the  rest  of  the  world,  as  Byron  has  described  them  to  be  (vide 
letter  to  Leigh  Hunt) ,  but  life  has  run  in  so  deep  a  current  with 
me  of  late,  that  the  absence  of  incident  seems  like  water  without 
wine.  The  agreeable  stir  of  travel,  the  incomplete  adventure, 
the  change  of  costumes  and  scenery,  the  busy  calls  upon  tho 
curiosity  and  the  imagination,  have  become,  in  a  manner,  very 
breath  to  me.  Hitherto  upon  the  cruise,  we  have  scarce  ever 
been  more  than  one  or  two  days  at  a  timeout  of  port.  Elba 
Sicily,  Naples,  Vienna,  the  Ionian  Isles  and  the  various  ports  of 
Greece  have  come  and  gone  so  rapidly,  and  so  entirely  without 
exertion  of  my  own,  that  I  seem  to  have  lived  in  a  magic  pano 
rama.  After  dinner  on  one  day  I  visit  a  city  here,  and  the  day 


248          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


or  two  after,  lounging  and  reading  and  sleeping  meanwhile  quietly 
at  home,  I  find  myself  rising  from  table,  hundreds  of  miles 
farther  to  the  north  or  east,  and  another  famous  city  before  me, 
having  taken  no  care,  and  felt  no  motion,  nor  encountered  danger 
or  fatigue.  A  summer  cruise  in  the  Mediterranean  is  certainly 
the  perfection  of  sight-seeing.  With  a  sea  as  smooth  as  a  river, 
and  cities  of  interest,  classical  and  mercantile,  everywhere  on  the 
lee,  I  can  conceive  of  no  class  of  persons  to  whom  it  would  not 
be  delightful.  A  company  of  pleasure,  in  a  private  vessel, 
would  see  all  Greece  and  Italy  with  less  trouble  and  expense 
than  is  common  on  a  trip  to  the  lakes. 


"All  hands  up  anchor  !"  The  dog-vane  points  at  last  to 
Constantinople.  The  capstan  is  manned,  the  sails  Igosed,  the 
quarter- master  at  the  wheel,  and  the  wind  freshens  every 
moment  from  the  "  sweet  south."  "  Heave  round  merrily  !" 
The  anchor  is  dragged  in  by  this  rushing  Hellespont,  and  holds 
on  as  if  the  bridge  of  Xerxes  were  tangled  about  the  flukes. 
"  Up  she  conies  at  last,"  and  yielding  to  her  broad  canvass,  the 
gallant  frigate  begins  to  make  headway  against  the  current. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  whole  world,  of  senseless  matter,  so  like 
a  breathing  creature  as  a  ship  !  The  energy  of  her  motion,  the 
beauty  of  her  shape  and  contrivance,  and  the  ease  with  which 
she  is  managed  by  the  one  mind  upon  her  quarter-deck,  to 
whose  voice  she  is  as  obedient  as  the  courser  to  the  rein,  inspire 
me  with  daily  admiration.  I  have  been  four  months  a  guest  in 
this  noble  man-of-war,  and  to  this  hour,  I  never  set  my  foot  on 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  249 

her  deck  without  a  feeling  of  fresh  wonder.  And  then  Cooper's 
novels  read  in  a  ward-room  as  grapes  eat  in  Tuscany.  It  were 
missing  one  of  the  golden  leaves  of  a  life  not  to  have  thumbed 
them  on  a  cruise. 

The  wind  has  headed  us  off  again,  and  we  have  dropped 
anchor  just  below  the  castles  of  the  Dardanelles.  We  have 
made  but  eight  miles,  but  we  have  new  scenery  from  the  ports, 
and  that  is  something  to  a  weary  eye.  I  was  as  tired  of  "  the 
shores  of  Ilion"  as  ever  was  Ulysses.  The  hills  about  our 
present  anchorage  are  green  and  boldly  marked,  and  the  frowning 
castles  above  us  give  that  addition  to  the  landscape  which  is 
alone  wanting  on  the  Hudson.  Sestos  and  Abydos  are  six  or 
seven  miles  up  the  stream.  The  Asian  shore  (I  should  have 
thought  it  a  pretty  circumstance,  once,  to  be  able  to  set  foot 
either  in  Europe  or  Asia  in  five  minutes)  is  enlivened  by 
numbers  of  small  vessels,  tracking  up  with  buffaloes,  .against 
wind  and  tide.  And  here  we  lie,  says  the  old  pilot,  without 
hope  till  the  moon  changes.  The  '•'•fickle  moon,"  quotha  !  I 
wish  my  friends  were  half  as  constant ! 

The  pacha  of  the  Dardanelles  has  honored  us  with  a  visit. 
He  came  in  a  long  caique,  pulled  by  twenty  stout  rascals,  his 
excellency  of  u  two  tails"  sitting  on  a  rich  carpet  on  the  bottom 
of  the  boat,  with  his  boy  of  a  year  old  in  the  same  uniform  as 
himself,  and  his  suite  of  pipe  and  slipper-bearers,  dwarf  and 
executioner,  sitting  cross-legged  about  him.  He  was  received 
with  the  guard  and  all  the  honor  due  his  rank.  His  face  is  that 
of  a  cold,  haughty,  and  resolute,  but  well-born  man,  and  his  son 
is  like  him.  He  looked  at  everything  attentively,  without 
expressing  any  surprise,  till  he  came  to  the  pianoforte,  which  one 
of  the  ladies  played  to  his  undisguised  delight.  It  was  the  first 


250         SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


he  had  ever  seen.     He  inquired,  through  his  interpreter,  if  she 


had  not  been  all  her  life  in  learning. 


The  poet  says,  "  The  seasons  of  the  year  come  in  like 
masquers."  To  one  who  had  made  their  acquaintance  in  New- 
England,  most  of  the  months  would  literally  pass  incog,  in  Italy. 
But  here  is  honest  October,  the  same  merry  old  gentleman, 
though  I  meet  him  in  Asia,  and  I  remember  him,  last  year,  at 
the  baths  of  Lucca,  as  unchanged  as  here.  It  has  been  a  clear, 
bright,  invigorating  day,  with  a  vitality  in  the  air  as  rousing  to 
the  spirits  as  a  blast  from  the  "  horn  of  Astolpho."  I  enu 
remember  just  such  a  day  ten  years  ago.  It  is  odd  how  a  littlo 
.sunshine  will  cling  to  the  memory  when  loves  and  hnt»s  that,  iu 
their  time,  convulsed  the  very  soul,  are  so  easily  forgotten. 

We  heard  yesterday  that  there  was  a  Turkish  village  seven  or 
eight  miles  in  the  mountains  on  the  Asian  side,  and,  as  a  variety 
to  the  promenade  on  the  quarter-deck,  a  ramble  was  proposed 
to  it. 

We  landed,  this  morning,  on  the  bold  shore  of  the  Dardanelles, 
and,  climbing  up  the  face  of  a  sand-hill,  struck  across  a  broad 
plain,  through  brush  and  brier,  for  a  mile.  On  the  edge  of  a 
ravine  we  found  a  pretty  road,  half  hedged  over  with  oak  and 
hemlock,  and  a  mounted  Turk,  whom  we  met  soon  after,  with  a 
£un  across  his  pummel,  and  a  goose  looking  from  his  saddle-l -u:*, 
directed  us  to  follow  it  till  we  reached  the  village. 

It  was  a  beautiful  path,  flecked  with  the  shade  of  leaves  of  ail 
the  variety  of  eastern  trees,  and  refreshed  with  a  fountain  at 
every  mile.  About  half  way  we  stopped  at  a  spring  welling  from 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  351 


a  rock,  under  a  large  fig-tree,  from  which  the  water  poured,  as 
clear  as  crystal,  into  seven  tanks,  and  one  after  the  other  rippling 
away  from  the  last  into  a  wild  thicket,  whence  a  stripe  of  brighter 
green  marked  its  course  down  the  mountain.  It  was  a  spot 
worthy  of  Tempe.  We  seated  ourselves  on  the  rim  of  the 
rocky  basin,  and,  with  a  drink  of  bright  water,  and  a  half  hour's 
repose,  re-eunitiicnceci  oui1  a^c  -nt,  blessing  the  nymph  of  the 
fount,  like  true  pilgrims  of  the  east. 

A  few  steps  beyond  we  mot  a  caravan  of  the  pacha's  tithe- 
gatherers,  with  mules  laden  with  grapes  ;  the  turbaned  and 
showily-armed  drivers,  as  they  came  winding  down  the  dell, 
produced  the  picturesque  effect  of  a  theatrical  ballet.  They 
laid  their  hands  on  their  breasts,  with  grave  courtesy  as  they 
approached,  and  we  helped  ourselves  to  the  ripe,  blushing 
clusters,  as  the  panniers  went  by,  with  Arcadian  freedom. 

We  reached  the  summit  of  the  ridge  a  little  before  noon,  and 
turned  our  faces  back  for  a  moment  to  catch  the  cool  wind  from 
the  Hellespont.  The  Dardanelles  came  winding  out  from  the 
bills,  just  above  Abydos,  and  sweeping  past  the  upper  castles  of 
Europe  and  Asia,  rushed  down  by  Tenedos  into  the  archipelago. 
Perhaps  twenty  miles  of  its  course  lay  within  our  view.  Its 
colors  were  borrowed  from  the  divine  sky  above,  and  the  rainbow 
is  scarce  more  varied  or  brighter.  The  changing  purple  and 
blue  of  the  mid-stream,  specked  with  white  crests,  the  crysoprase 
green  of  the  shallows,  and  the  dies  of  the  various  depths  along 
the  shore,  gave  it  the  appearance  of  a  vein  of  transparent 
marble,  inlaid  through  the  valley.  The  frigate  looked  like  a 
child's  boat  on  its  bosom.  To  our  left,  the  tombs  of  Ajax  and 
Achilles  were  just  distinguishable  in  the  plains  of  the  Scaman- 
der,  and  Troy  (if  Troy  ever  stood),  stood  back  from  the  sea,  and 


252  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


the  blue-wreathed  isles  of  the  archipelago  bounded  the  reach  of 
the  eye.  It  was  a  view  that  might  "  cure  a  month's  grief  in  a 
day." 

We  descended  now  into  a  kind  of  cradle  valley,  yellow  with 
rich  vineyards.  It  was  alive  with  people  gathering  in  the  grapes. 
The  creaking  wagons  filled  the  road,  and  shouts  and  laughter 
rang  over  the  mountain-sides  merrily.  The  scene  would  have 
been  Italian,  but  for  the  turbans  peering  out  everywhere  from 
the  leaves,  and  those  diabolical-looking  buffaloes  in  the  wagons. 
The  village  was  a  mile  or  two  before  us,  and  we  loitered  on, 
entering  here  and  there  a  vineyard,  where  the  only  thing 
evidently  grudged  us  was  our  peep  at  the  women.  They 
scattered  like  deer  as  we  stepped  over  the  walls. 

Near  the  village  we  found  a  grave  Turk,  of  whom  one  of  the 
officers  made  some  inquiries,  which  were  a  part  of  our  errand  to 
the  mountains.  It  may  spoil  the  sentiment  of  my  description, 
but,  in  addition  to  the  poetry  of  the  ramble,  we  were  to  purchase 
beef  for  the  mess.  His  bullocks  were  out  at  grass  (feeding  in 
pastoral  security,  poor  things!),  and  he  invited  us  to  his  house, 
while  he  sent  his  boyto  drive  them  in.  I  recognised  them,  when 
they  came,  as  two  handsome  steers,  which  had  completed  the 
beauty  of  an  open  glade,  in  the  centre  of  a  clump  of  forest  trees, 
on  our  route.  The  pleasure  they  have  afforded  to  the  eye  will 
be  repeated  upon  the  palate — a  double  destiny  not  accorded  to 
all  beautiful  creatures. 

Our  host  led  us  up  a  flight  of  rough  stone  steps  to  the  second 
story  of  his  house,  where  an  old  woman  sat  upon  her  heels, 
rolling  out  paste,  and  a  younger  one  nursed  a  little  Turk  at  her 
bosom.  They  had,  like  every  man,  woman  or  child  I  have  seen 
in  this  country,  superb  eyes  and  noses.  No  chisel  could  improve 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  253 


the  meanest  of  them  in  these  features.  Our  friend's  wife 
seemed  ashamed  to  be  caught  with  her  face  uncovered,  but  she 
offered  us  cushions  on  the  floor  before  she  retired,  and  her 
husband  followed  up  her  courtesy  with  his  pipe. 

We  went  thence  to  the  cafe,  where  a  bubbling  hookah,  a  cup 
of  coffee,  and  a  divan,  refreshed  us  a  little  from  our  fatigues. 
While  the  rest  of  the  party  were  lingering  over  their  pipes,  T 
took  a  turn  through  the  village  in  search  of  the  house  of  the 
aga.  After  strolling  up  and  down  the  crooked  streets  for  half  an 
hour,  a  pretty  female  figure,  closely  enveloped  in  her  veil,  and 
showing,  as  she  ran  across  the  street,  a  dainty  pair  of  feet  in 
small  yellow  slippers,  attracted  me  into  the  open  court  of  the 
best-looking  house  in  the  village.  The  lady  had  disappeared, 
but  a  curious-looking  carriage,  lined  with  rich  Turkey  carpeting 
and  cushions,  and  covered  with  red  curtains,  made  to  draw 
close  in  front,  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  court.  I  was  going  up 
to  examine  it,  when  an  old  man,  with  a  beard  to  his  girdle,  and 
an  uncommonly  rich  turban,  stepped  from  the  house,  and 
motioned  me  angrily  away.  A  large  wolf-dog,  which  he  held 
by  the  collar,  added  emphasis  to  his  command,  and  I  retreated 
directly.  A  giggle  and  several  female  voices  from  the  closely- 
latticed  window,  rather  aggravated  the  mortification.  I  had 
intruded  on  the  premises  of  the  aga,  a  high  offence  in  Turkey, 
when  a  woman  is  in  the  case. 

It  was  "  deep  i'  the  afternoon,"  when  we  arrived  at  the  beach, 
and  made  signal  for  a  boat.  We  were  on  board  as  the  sky 
kindled  with  the  warm  colors  of  an  Asian  sunset — a  daily  offset 
to  our  wearisome  detention  which  goes  far  to  keep  me  in  temper. 
My  fear  is  that  the  commodore's  patience  is  not  u  so  good  a 


254          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


continuer"  as  this  "  vento  maledetto,"  as  the  pilot  calls  it,  and 
in  such  a  case  I  lose  Constantinople  most  provokingly. 

Walked  to  the  Upper  Castle  Asia,  some  eight  miles  above  our 
anchorage.  This  is  the  main  town  on  the  Dardanelles,  and 
contains  forty  or  fifty  thousand  inhabitants.  Sestos  and  Abydos 
are  a  mile  or  two  farther  up  the  strait. 

We  kept  along  the  beach  for  an  hour  or  two,  passing 
occasionally  a  Turk  on  horseback,  till  we  were  stopped  by  a 
small  and  shallow  creek  without  a  bridge,  just  on  the  skirts  of 
the  town.  A  woman  with  one  eye  peeping  from  her  veil, 
dressed  in  a  tunic  of  fine  blue  cloth,  stood  at  the  head  of  a  large 
drove  of  camels  on  the  other  side,  and  a  beggar  with  one  eye, 
smoked  his  pipe  on  the  sand  at  a  little  distance.  The  water  was 
knee-deep,  and  we  were  hesitating  on  the  brink,  when  the  beggar 
offered  to  carry  us  across  on  his  back — a  task  he  accomplished 
(there  were  six  of  us)  without  taking  his  pipe  from  his  mouth. 

I  tried  in  vain  to  get  a  peep  at  the  camel-driver's  wife  or 
daughter,  but  she  seemed  jealous  of  showing  even  her  eyebrow, 
and  I  followed  on  to  the  town.  The  Turks  live  differently  from 
every  other  people,  I  believe.  You  walk  through  their  town  and 
see  every  individual  in  it,  except  perhaps  the  women  of  the 
pacha.  Their  houses  are  square  boxes,  the  front  side  of  which 
lifts  on  a  hinge  in  the  day  time,  exposing  the  whole  interior,  with 
its  occupants  squatted  in  the  corners  or  on  the  broad  platform 
where  their  trades  are  followed.  They  are  scarce  larger  than 
boxes  in  the  theatre,  and  the  roof  projects  into  the  middle  of  the 
street,  meeting  that  of  the  opposite  neighbor,  so  that  the 
pavement  between  is  always  dark  and  cool.  The  three  or  four 
Turkish  towns  I  have  seen,  have  the  appearance  of  cabins 


ON    BOARD  AN   AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  255 


thrown  up  hastily  after  a  fire.  You  would  not  suppose  they  were 
intended  to  last  more  than  a  month  at  the  farthest. 

We  roved  through  the  narrow  streets  an  hour  or  more, 
admiring  the  fine-bearded  old  Turks,  smoking  cross-legged  in 
the  cafes,  the  slipper-makers  with  their  gay  morocco  wares  in 
goodly  rows  around  them,  the  wily  Jews  with  their  high  caps  and 
caftans  (looking,  crouched  among  their  merchandise,  like  the 
u  venders  of  old  bottles  and  abominable  lies,"  as  they  are  drawn 
in  the  plays  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  time),  the  muffled  and 
gliding  spectres  of  the  moslem  women,  and  the  livelier-footed 
Greek  girls,  in  their  velvet  jackets  and  braided  hair,  and  by  this 
time  we  were  kindly  disposed  to  our  dinners. 

On  our  way  to  the  consul's,  where  we  were  to  dine,  we  passed 
a  mosque.  The  minaret  (a  tall  peaked  tower,  about  of  the  shape 
and  proportions  of  a  pencil-case)  commanded  a  view  down  the 
principal  streets  ;  and  a  stout  fellow,  with  a  sharp  clear  voice, 
leaned  over  the  balustrade  at  the  top,  crying  out  the  invitation  to 
prayer  in  a  long  drawling  sing-song,  that  must  have  been  audible 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Hellespont.  Open  porches,  supported 
by  a  paling,  extended  all  around  the  church,  and  the  floors  were 
filled  with  kneeling  Turks,  with  their  pistols  and  ataghans  lying 
beside  them.  I  had  never  seen  so  picturesque  a  congregation. 
The  slippers  were  left  in  hundreds  at  the  threshold,  and  the  bare 
and  muscular  feet  and  legs,  half  concealed  by  the  full  trowsers, 
supported  as  earnest  a  troop  of  worshippers  as  ever  bent  fore 
head  to  the  ground.  I  left  them  rising  from  a  flat  prostration, 
and  hurried  after  my  companions  to  dinner. 

Our  consul  of  the  Dardanelles  is  an  American.  He  is  absent 
just  now,  in  search  of  a  runaway  female  tlave  of  the  sultan's  ; 
and  his  wife,  a  gracious  Italian,  full  of  movement  and  hospitality, 


256  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


does  the  honors  of  his  house  in  his  absence.  He  is  a  physician 
as  well  as  consul  and  slave-catcher,  and  the  presents  of  a  hand- 
orga**,  a  French  clock,  and  a  bronze  standish,  rather  prove  him 
to  be  a  favorite  with  the  "  brother  of  the  sun." 

"We  were  smoking  the  hookah  after  dinner,  when  an  intelligent- 
looking  man,  of  fifty  or  so,  came  in  to  pay  us  a  visit.  He  is  at 
present  an  exile  from  Constantinople,  by  order  of  the  grand 
seignior,  because  a  brother  physician,  his  friend,  failed  in  an 
attempt  to  cure  one  of  the  favorites  of  the  imperial  harem  ! 
This  is  what  might  be  called  "  sympathy  upon  compulsion."  It 
is  unnecessary,  one  would  think,  to  make  friendship  more 
dangerous  than  common  human  treachery  renders  it  already. 


LETTER    XXX, 

Turkish  Military  Life- -A  Visit  to  the  Camp— Turkish  Music— Sunsets— The  Sea  of  Mar 

mora. 

A  HALF  hour's  walk  brought  us  within  sight  of  the  pacha's 
camp.  The  green  and  white  tents  of  five  thousand  Turkish 
troops  were  pitch".'!  on  the  edge  of  a  stream,  partly  sheltered  by 
a  grove  of  nob].;  oaks,  and  defended  by  v;icker  batteries  at 
distances  of  thirty  or  forty  feet.  We  were  stopped  by  the 
sentinel  on  guard,  while  a  message  was  sent  in  to  the  pacha  for 
permis.-ion  to  wait  upon  him.  Meantime  a  number  of  young 
officers  came  out  from  their  tents,  and  commenced  examining 
our  dresses  with  the  curiosity  of  boys.  One  put  on  my  gloves, 
another  examined  the  cloth  of  my  coat,  a  third  took  from  mo  a 
curious  stick  I  had  purchased  at  Vienna,  and  a  more  famili.-n- 
gentleman  took  up  my  hand,  and  after  comparing  it  with  his  own 
black  fingers,  stroked  it  with  an  approving  smile  that  was  meant 
probably  as  a  compliment.  My  companions  underwent  the  same 
review,  and  their  curiosity  was  still  unsated  when  a  good-looking 
officer,  with  his  cimeter  under  his  arm,  came.to  conduct  us  to  the 
commander-in-chief. 

The  long   lines  of   tents  were   bent   to   the   direction  of  the 


258          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN 


stream,  and,  at  short  distances,  the  silken  banner  stuck  in  the 
ground  under  the  charge  of  a  sentinel,  and  a  divan  covered  with 
rich  carpets  under  the  shade  of  the  nearest  tree,  marked  the  tent 
of  an  officer.  The  interior  of  those  of  the  soldiers  exhibited 
merely  a  stand  of  muskets  and  a  raised  platform  for  bed  and 
table,  covered  with  coarse  mats,  and  decked  with  the  European 
accoutrements  now  common  in  Turkey.  It  was  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon,  and  most  of  the  officers  lay  asleep  on  low  otto 
mans,  with  their  tent-curtains  undrawn,  and  their  long  chibouques 
beside  them,  or  still  at  their  lips.  Hundreds  of  soldiers  loitered 
about,  engaged  in  various  occupations,  sweeping,  driving  their 
tent-stakes  more  firmly  into  the  ground,  cleaning  arms,  cooking, 
or  with  their  heels  under  them  playing  silently  at  dominoes. 
Half  the  camp  lay  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream,  and  there 
was  repeated  the  same  warlike  picture,  the  white  uniform  and  the 
loose  red  cap  with  its  gold  bullion  and  blue  tassel,  appearing  and 
disappearing  between  the  rows  of  tents,  and  the  bright  red 
banners  clinging  to  the  staff  in  the  breathless  sunshine. 

We  soon  approached  the  splendid  pavilion  of  the  pacha, 
unlike  the  rest  in  shape,  and  surrounded  by  a  quantity  of 
servants,  some  cooking  at  the  root  of  a  tree,  and  all  pursuing 
their  vocation  with  a  singular  earnestness.  A  superb  banner  of 
•vi<:ht  crimson  silk,  wrought  with  long  lines  of  Turkish  charac- 
u>,  piobably  passages  from  the  Koran,  stood  in  a  raised  socket 
guarded  by  two  sentinels.  Near  the  tent,  and  not  far  from  the 
edge  of  the  stream,  stood  a  gayly-painted  kiosk,  not  unlike  the 
fantastic  summer-houses  sometimes  seen  in  a  European  garden, 
and  here  our  conductor  stopped,  and  kicking  off  his  slippers, 
motioned  for  us  to  enter. 

We  mounted  the  steps,  and  passing  a  small  entrance-room 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  259 


filled  with  guards,  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  commander-in- 
chief.  He  sat  on  a  divan,  cross-legged,  in  a  military  frock-coat 
wrought  with  gold  on  the  collar  and  cuffs,  a  sparkling  diamond 
crescent  on  his  breast,  and  a  cimetar  at  his  side,  with  a  belt 
richly  wrought,  and  held  by  a  buckle  of  dazzling  brilliants.  His 
aid  sat  beside  him,  in  a  dress  somewhat  similar,  and  both 
appeared  to  be  men  of  about  forty.  The  pacha  is  a  stern,  dark, 
soldier-like  man,  with  a  thick,  straight  beard  as  black  as  jet,  and 
features  which  look  incapable  of  a  smile.  He  bowed  without 
rising  when  we  entered,  and  motioned  for  us  to  be  seated.  A 
little  conversation  passed  between  him  and  the  consul's  son,  who 
acted  as  our  interpreter,  and  coffee  came  in  almost  immediately. 
There  was  an  aroma  about  it  which  might  revive  a  mummy. 
The  small  china-cups,  with  thin  gold  filagree  sockets,  were  soon 
emptied  and  taken  away,  and  the  officer  in  waiting  introduced  a 
soldier  to  go  through  the  manual  exercise  by  way  of  amusing  us. 

He  was  a  powerful  fellow,  and  threw  his  musket  about  with 
so  much  violence,  that  I  feared  every  moment,  the  stock,  lock, 
and  barrel  would  part  company.  He  had  taken  off  his  shoes 
before  venturing  into  the  presence  of  his  commander,  and  looked 
oddly  enough,  playing  the  soldier  in  his  stockings.  I  was 
relieved  of  considerable  apprehension  when  he  ordered  arms,  and 
backed  out  to  his  slippers. 

The  next  exhibition  was  that  of  a  military  band.  A  drum- 
major,  with  a  proper  gold-headed  stick,  wheeled  some  sixty 
fellows  with  all  kinds  of  instruments  under  the  windows  of  the 
kiosk,  and  with  a  whirl  of  his  baton,  the  harmony  commenced. 
I  could  just  detect  some  resemblance  to  a  march.  The  drums 
rolled,  the  "  ear-piercing  fifes"  fulfilled  their  destiny,  and  trom 
bone,  serpent  and  !•<  i<  >Lowed  of  what  they  were  capable 


260        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

The  pacha  got  upon  his  knees  to  lean  out  of  the  window,  and  as 
I  rose  from  my  low  seat  at  the  same  time,  he  pulled  me  down 
beside  him,  and  gave  me  half  his  carpet,  patting  me  on  the  back, 
and  pressing  me  to  the  window  with  his  arm  over  my  neck.  I 
have  observed  frequently  among  the  Turks  this  singular  familiar 
ity  of  manners  both  to  strangers  and  one  another.  It  is  an  odd 
contrast  with  their  habitual  gravity. 

The  sultan,  I  think  unwisely,  has  introduced  the  European 
uniform  into  his  army.  With  the  exception  of  the  Tunisian 
cap,  which  is  substituted  for  the  thick  and  handsome  turban,  the 
dress  is  such  as  is  worn  by  the  soldiers  of  the  French  army. 
Their  tailors  are  of  course  bad,  and  their  figures,  accustomed 
only  to  the  loose  and  graceful  costume  of  the  east,  are  awkward 
and  constrained.  I  never  saw  so  uncouth  a  set  of  fellows  as  the 
five  thousand  mussulmans  in  this  army  of  the  Dardanelles  ;  and 
yet  in  their  Turkish  trowsers  and  turban,  with  the  belt  stuck  full 
of  arms,  and  their  long  mustache,  they  would  be  as  martial-look 
ing,  troops  as  ever  followed  a  banner. 

We  embarked  at  sunset  to  return  to  the  ship.  The  shell- 
shaped  caique,  with  her  tall  sharp  extremities  and  fantastic  sail, 
yielded  to  the  rapid  current  of  the  Hellespont ;  and  our  two 
boatmen,  as  handsome  a  brace  of  Turks  as  were  ever  drawn  in  a 
picture,  pulled  their  legs  under  them  more  closely,  and  com 
menced  singing  the  alternate  stanzas  of  a  villanous  duet.  The 
helmsman's  part  was  rather  humorous,  and  his  merry  black  eyes 
redeemed  it  somewhat,  but  his  fellow  was  as  grave  as  a  dervish, 
and  howled  as  if  he  were  ferrying  over  Xerxes  after  his  defeat. 

If  I  were  to  live  in  the  east  as  long  as  the  wandering  Jew,  I 
think  these  heavenly  sunsets,  evening  after  evening,  scarce  vary 
ing  by  a  shade,  would  never  become  familiar  to  my  eye.  Thoy 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  261 


surprise  me  day  after  day,  like  some  new  and  brilliant  phenome 
non,  though  the  thoughts  which  they  bring,  as  it  were  by  a  habit 
contracted  of  the  hour,  are  almost  always  the  same.  The  day, 
in  these  countries  where  life  flows  so  thickly,  is  engrossed,  and 
pretty  busily  too,  by  the  present.  The  past  comes  up  with  the 
twilight,  and  wherever  I  may  be,  and  in  whatever  scene  mingling, 
my  heart  breaks  away,  and  goes  down  into  the  west  with  the  sun. 
I  am  at  home  as  duly  as  the  bird  settles  to  her  nest. 

It  was  natural  in  paying  the  boatman,  after  such  a  musing 
passage,  to  remember  the  poetical  justice  of  Uhland  in  crossing 
the  ferry : — 

"  T..Le.  O  Liouunan,  thrice  thy  fee  ! 

Take  !  I  give  it  willingly ; 
For,  invisibly  to  thee, 

Spirits  twain  have  crossed  with  me!" 

I  should  have  paid  for  one  other  seat,  at  least,  by  this  fanciful 
tariff.  Our  unmusical  mussulmans  were  content,  however,  and 
we  left  them  to  pull  back  against  the  tide,  by  a  star  that  cast  a 
shadow  like  a  meteor. 


The  moon  changed  this  morning,  and  the  wind,  that  in  this 
clime  of  fable  is  as  constant  to  her  as  Endymion,  changed  too. 
The  white  caps  vanished  from  the  hurrying  waves  of  the  Darda 
nelles,  and  after  an  hour  or  two  of  calm,  the  long-expected 
breeze  came  tripping  out  of  Asia,  with  oriental  softness,  and  is 
now  leading  us  gently  up  the  Hellespont. 

As  we  passed  between  the  two  castles  of  the  Dardanelles,  the 
commodore  saluted  the  pacha  with  nineteen  guns,  and  in  half  an 


262        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


hour  we  were  off  Abydos,  where  our  friend  from  the  south  has 
deserted  us,  and  we  are  compelled  to  anchor.  It  would  be 
unclassical  to  complain  of  delay  on  so  poetical  a  spot.  It  is 
beautiful,  too.  The  shores  on  both  the  Asian  and  European 
sides  are  charmingly  varied  and  the  sun  lies  on  them,  and  on  the 
calm  strait  that  links  them,  with  a  beauty  worthy  of  the  fair 
spirit  of  Hero.  A  small  Turkish  castle  occupies  the  site  of  the 
"  torch-lit  tower"  of  Abydos,  and  there  is  a  corresponding  one 
at  Sestos.  The  distance  between  looks  little  more  than  a  mile- — 
not  a  surprising  feat  for  any  swimmer,  I  should  think.  Lady 
loves  in  our  day,  alas  !  are  not  won  so  lightly.  The  current  of 
the  Hellespont,  however,  remains  the  same,  and  so  does  the 
moral  of  Leander's  story.  The  Hellespont  of  matrimony  may 
be  crossed  with  the  tide.  The  deuse  is  to  get  lack  ! 

Lampsacus  on  the  starboard-bow,  and  a  fairer  spot  lies  on  no 
river's  brink.  Its  trees,  vineyards,  and  cottages,  slant  up  almost 
imperceptibly  from  the  water's  edge,  and  the  hills  around  have 
the  look  "  of  a  clean  and  quiet  privacy,"  with  a  rural  elegance 
that  might  tempt  Shakspeare's  Jaques  to  come  and  moralize. 
By  the  way,  there  have  been  philosophers  here.  Did  not  Alex 
ander  forgive  the  city  its  obstinate  defence  for  the  sake  of  Anax- 
imenes  ?  There  was  a  sad  dog  of  a  deity  worshipped  here  about 
that  time. 

I  take  a  fresh  look  at  it  from  the  port,  as  I  write.  Pastures, 
every  one  with  a  bordering  of  tall  trees,  cattle  as  beautiful  as  the 
daughter  of  lanchus,  lanes  of  wild  shrubbery,  a  greener  stripe 
through  the  fields  like  the  track  of  a  stream,  and  smoke  curling 
from  every  cluster  of  trees,  telling  as  plainly  as  the  fancy  can 
read,  that  there  is  both  poetry  and  pillaw  at  Lampsacus. 

Just  opposite  stands  the  modern  Gallipoli,  a  Turkish  town  of 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  263 


some  thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  at  the  head  of  the  Hellespont. 
The  Hellespont  gets  broader  here,  and  a  few  miles  farther  up  we 
open  into  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  A  French  brig-of-war,  that  has 
been  hanging  about  us  for  a  fortnight  (watching  our  movements 
in  this  unusual  cruise  for  an  American  frigate,  perhaps),  is  just 
ahead,  and  a  quantity  of  sail  are  stretching  off  on  the  southern 
tack,  to  make  the  best  use  of  their  new  sea-room  for  beating  up 
to  Constantinople. 

We  hope  to  see  Seraglio  Point  to-morrow.  Mr.  Hodgson,  the 
secretary  of  our  embassy  to  Turkey,  has  just  come  on  board 
from  the  Smyrna  packet,  and  the  agreeable  preparations  for 
going  on  shore,  are  already  on  the  stir.  I  do  not  find  that  the 
edge  of  curiosity  dulls  with  use.  The  prospect  of  seeing  a 
strange  city,  to-morrow,  produces  the  same  quick-pulsed  emotion 
that  I  felt  in  the  diligence  two  years  ago,  rattling  over  the  last 
post  to  Paris.  The  entrances  to  Florence,  Rome,  Venice, 
Vienna,  Athens,  are  marked  each  with  as  white  a  stone,  He 
may  "  gather  no  moss"  who  rolls  about  the  world  ;  but  that 
which  the  gold  of  the  careful  cannot  buy — pleasure — when  the 
soul  is  most  athirst  for  it,  grows  under  his  feet.  Of  the  many 
daily  reasons  I  find  to  thank  Providence,  not  the  least  is  that  of 
being  what  Clodio  calls  himself  in  the  play,  "  a  here-and- 
thereian." 


LETTER  XXXI, 

Gallipoli— Aristocracy  of  Beards— Turkish  Shop  keepers— The  Hospitable  Jew  and  hia 
lovely  Daughter— Unexpected  Kencontre— Constantinople— The  Bosphorus,  the  Serag- 
.lD,  and  the  Golden  Horn. 

WHAT  an  image  of  life  it  is  !  The  good  ship  dashes  bravely 
on  her  course — the  spray  flies  from  her  prow — her  sheets  are 
steady  and  full — to  look  up  to  her  spreading  canvass,  and  feel  her 
springing  away  beneath,  you  would  not  give  her  "  for  the  best 
horse  the  sun  has  in  his  stable."  The  next  moment,  hey  !  the 
foresail  is  aback  !  the  wind  baffles  and  dies,  the  ripples  sink  from 
the  sea,  the  ship  loses  her  "  way,"  and  the  pennant  drops  to  the 
mast  in  a  breathless  calm  !  "  Clear  away  the  anchor  !"  and 
here  we  are  till  this  "  crab  in  the  ascendant"  that  makes  "  all 
our  affairs  go  backward,"  yields  to  our  better  stars. 

We  went  ashore  to  take  a  stroll  through  the  streets  of  G-alli- 
poli  (the  ancient  Gallipoli  of  Thrace)  as  a  sop  to  our  patience. 
A  deeply-laden  Spanish  merchant  lay  off  the  pier,  with  a  crew 
of  red-capped  and  olive-complexioned  fellows  taking  in  grain 
from  a  Turkish  caique,  and  a  crowd  of  modern  Thracians,  in  the 
noble  costumes  and  flowing  beards  of  the  country,  closed  around 
us  as  we  stepped  from  the  boat. 

A  street  of  cafes  led  from   the  end  of  the  pier,  and  as  usual, 


SUMMER  CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN.         265 


they  were  all  crowded  with  Turks,  leaning  forward  over  their 
slippers,  and  crossing  their  long  chibouques  as  they  conversed 
together.  It  is  odd  that  even  the  habit  of  a  life  can  make  their 
painful  and  unnatural  posture  an  agreeable  one.  Yet  they  will 
sit  with  their  legs  crooked  under  them,  in  a  way  that  strains  the 
unaccustomed  knee  till  it  cracks  again,  motionless  by  the  hour 
together. 

I  had  no  idea  till  I  came  to  Turkey  how  rare  a  beauty  is  a 
handsome  beard.  Here  no  man  shaves,  and  there  is  as  great  a 
difference  in  beards  as  in  stature.  The  men  of  rank  that  we 
have  seen,  might  have  been  picked  out  anywhere  by  their 
superior  beauty  in  this  respect.  It  grows  vilely,  it  seems  to  me, 
on  scoundrels.  The  beggars  ashore,  the  low  Jews  who  board  us 
with  provisions,  the  greater  part  of  the  soldiers  and  petty  shop 
keepers  of  the  towns,  have  all  some  mark  in  their  beards,  that 
nature  never  intended  them  for  gentlemen.  Your  smooth  chin 
is  a  great  leveller,  trust  me  ! 

These  Turkish  towns  have  a  queer  look  altogether.  Gallipoli 
is  so  seldom  touched  by  a  Christian  foot,  that  it  preserves  all  its 
peculiarities  entire,  and  is  likely  to  do  so-  for  the  next  century. 
We  walked  on,  ascending  a  narrow  street  completely  shut  in  by 
the  roofs  of  the  low  houses  meeting  above.  There  are  no 
carriages  or  carts,  and  the  Turks  glide  over  the  stones  in  their 
loose  slippers  with  an  indolent  shuffle  that  seems  rather  to  add  to 
the  silence.  You  hear  no  voice,  for  they  seldom  speak,  and 
never  above  the  key  of  a  bassoon  ;  and  what  with  the  odd  cos 
tumes,  long  beards,  grave  faces,  and  twilight  darkness  all  about 
you,  it  is  like  a  scene  on  the  stage  when  the  lights  are  lowered  in 
some  incantation  scene. 

Each  street  is  devoted  to  some  one  trade.  We  first  got  among 
12 


266          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  grocers.  Every  shop  was  a  fellow  to  the  other,  containing 
an  old  Turk,  squatted  among  soap,  jars  of  oilj  raisins,  olives, 
pickled  fish,  and  sweetmeats,  and  everything  within  his  reach. 
He  would  sell  you  his  whole  stock  in  trade  without  taking  his 
pipe  from  his  mouth,  or  disturbing  his  yellow  slipper. 

The  next  turn  brought  us  into  the  Jews'  quarter.  They  were 
all  tailors,  and  their  shops  were  as  dark  as  Erebus.  The  light 
crept  through  the  chinks  in  the  roof,  falling  invariably  on  the 
same  aquiline  nose  and  ragged  beard,  with  now  and  then  a  pair 
of  copper  spectacles,  while  in  the  back  of  the  dim  tenement  sat 
an  old  woman  with  a  group  of  handsome  little  Hebrews,  (they 
are  always  handsome  when  very  young,  with  their  clear  skins  and 
dark  eyes)  the  whole  family  stitching  away  most  diligently.  It 
was  laughable  to  see  how  every  shop  in  the  street  presented  the 
same  picture. 

We  then  got  among  the  slipper-makers,  and  vile  work  they 
turned  out.  "VVe  were  hesitating  between  two  turnings  when  an 
old  Jew,  with  a  high  lamb's-wool  cap  and  long  black  caftan, 
rather  shabby  for  wear,  addressed  me  in  a  sort  of  lingua  Franca, 
half  Italian,  half  French,  with  a  sprinkling  of  Spanish,  and  in 
quiring  whether  I  belonged  to 'the  frigate  in  the  harbor,  offered 
to  supply  us  with  provisions,  etc.,  etc.  T  declined  his  services, 
and  he  asked  us  directly  to  his  house  to  take  coffee,  as  plump  a 
non  sequitur  as  I  have  met  in  my  travels. 

We  followed  the  old  man  to  a  very  secluded  part  of  the  town, 
stopping  a  moment  by  the  way  to  look  at  the  remains  of  an  old 
fort  built  by  the  Genoese  in  the  stout  times  of  Andrea  Doria. 
(Where  be  their  galleys  now  ?)  Hajji  (so  he  was  called,  he  said, 
from  having  been  to  Jerusalem)  stopped  at  last  at  the  door  of  a 
shabby  house,  and  throwing  it  open  with  a  hospitable  smile,  bade 


ON   BOARD  AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  267 


us  welcome.  We  mounted  a  creaking  stair,  and  found  things 
within  better  than  the  promise  of  the  exterior.  One  half  the 
floor  of  the  room  was  raised  perhaps  a  foot,  and  matted  neatly, 
and  a  nicely  carpeted  and  cushioned  divan  ran  around  the  three 
sides,  closed  at  the  two  extremities  by  a  lattice-work  like  the  arm 
of  a  sofa.  The  windows  were  set  in  fantastical  arabesque  frames, 
the  upper  panes  coarsely  colored,  but  with  a  rich  effect,  and  the 
view  hence  stretched  over  the  Hellespont  toward  the  south,  with 
a  delicious  background  of  the  valleys  about  Lampsarus.  No 
palace  window  looks  on  a  fairer  scene.  The  broad  strait  was  as 
smooth  as  the  amber  of  the  old  Hebrew's  pipe,  and  the  vines  that 
furnished  Themistocles  with  wine  during  his  exile  in  Persia, 
looked  of  as  golden  a  green  in  the  light  of  the  sunset,  as  if  the 
honor  of  the  tribute  still  warmed  their  classic  juices. 

The  rich  Turkish  coffee  was  brought  in  by  an  old  woman,  who 
left  her  slippers  below  as  she  stepped  upon  the  mat,  and  our  host 
followed  with  chibouques  and  a  renewed  welcome.  A  bright  pair 
of  eyes  had  been  peeping  for  some  time  from  one  of  the  chambers, 
and  with  Hajji's  permission  I  called  out  a  graceful  creature  of 
fourteen,  with  a  shape  like  a  Grecian  Cupidon,  and  a  timid 
sweetness  of  expression  that  might  have  descended  to  her  from 
the  gentle  Ruth  of  scripture.  There  are  lovely  beings  all  over 
the  world.  It  were  a  desert  else.  But  I  did  not  tlnnk  to  find 
such  a  diamond  in  a  Hebrew's  bosom.  I  have  forgotten  to 
mention  her  hair,  which  was  very  remarkable.  I  thought  at 
first  it  was  dyed  with  henna.  It  covered  her  back  and  shoulders 
in  the  greatest  profusion,  braided  near  the  head,  and  floating  be 
low  in  glossy  and  silken  curls  of  a  richness  you  would  deny  na 
ture  had  you  seen  it  in  a  painting.  The  color  was  of  the  deep 
burnt  brown  of  a  berry,  almost  black  in  the  shade,  but  catching 


268          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  light  at  every  motion  like  threads  of  gold.  In  my  life  I  have 
seen  nothing  so  beautiful.  It  was  the  "  hair  lustrous  and  smil 
ing"  of  quaint  old  "Burton.*  There  was  something  in  it  that  you 
could  scarce  avoid  associating  with  the  character  of  the  wearer — 
as  if  it  stole  its  softness  from  some  inborn  gentleness  in  her  heart. 
I  shall  never  thread  my  fingers  through  such  locks  again  ! 

We  shook  our  kind  host  by  the  hand,  and  stepped  gingerly 
down  in  the  fading  twilight  to  our  boat.  As  we  were  crossing  an 
open  space  between  the  bazars,  two  gentlemen  in  a  costume  half 
European,  half  Oriental,  with  spurs  and  pistols,  and  a  quantity 
of  dust  on  their  mustaches,  passed,  and  immediately  turned  and 
called  me  by  name.  The  last  place  in  which  I  should  have 
looked  for  acquaintances,  would  be  Gallipoli.  They  were  two 
French  exquisites  whom  I  had  known  at  Rome,  travelling  to 
Constantinople  with  no  more  serious  object,  I  dare  be  sworn, 
than  to  return  with  long  beards  from  the  east.  They  had  just 
arrived  on  horseback,  and  were  looking  for  a  khan.  I  com 
mended  them  to  my  old  friend  the  Jew,  who  offered  at  once  to 
lodge  them  at  his  house,  and  we  parted  in-  this  by-corner  of 
Thrace,  as  if  we  had  but  met  for  the  second  time  in  a  morning 
stroll  to  St.  Peter's. 


We  lay  till  noon  in  the  glassy  harbor  of  Gallipoli,  and  then  the 
breeze  came  slowly  up  the  Hellespont,  its  advancing  edge  marked 
by  a  crowd  of  small  sail  keeping  even  pace  with  its  wings.  We 
soon  opened  into  the  extending  sea  of  Marmora,  and  the  cloudy 

*  "  Hair  lustrous  and  smiling.  The  trope  is  none  of  mine.  ^Eneus  Syl 
vius  hath  crincs  ridcntes.^ — Jlnaiomy  of  Melancholy. 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  269 

island  of  the  same  name  is  at  this  moment  on  our  lee.  The  sun 
is  setting  gorgeously  over  the  hills  of  Thrace,  and  thankful  for 
sea-room  once  more,  and  a  good  breeze,  we  make  ourselves  cer 
tain  of  seeing  Constantinople  to-morrow. 


We  were  ten  miles  distant  when  I  came  on  deck  this  morning. 
A  long  line  of  land  with  a  slightly-waving  outline  began  to  emerge 
from  the  mist  of  sunrise,  and  with  a  glass  I  could  distinguish  the 
clustering  masses  and  shining  eminences  of  a  distant  and  far  ex 
tending  city.  We  were  approaching  it  with  a  cloud  of  company. 
A  Turkish  ship-of-war  with  the  crescent  and  star  fluttering  on 
her  blood-red  flag,  a  French  cutter  bearing  the  handsome  tri 
color  at  her  peak,  and  an  uncounted  swarm  of  merchantmen, 
taking  advantage  of  the  newly-changed  wind,  were  spreading 
every  thread  of  canvass,  and  stretching  on  as  eagerly  as  we 
toward  the  metropolis  of  the  east.  There  was  something  in  the 
companionship  which  elated  me.  It  seemed  as  if  all  the  world 
shared  in  my  anticipations — as  if  all  the  world  were  going  to 
Constantinople. 

I  approached  the  mistress  of  the  east  with  different  feelings 
from  that  which  had  inspired  me  in  entering  the  older  cities  of 
Europe.  The  interest  of  the  latter  sprang  from  the  past.  Rome, 
Florence,  Athens,  were  delightful  from  the  store  of  history  and 
poetry  I  brought  with  me  and  had  accumulated  in  my  youth — 
from  what  they  once  were,  and  for  that  of  which  they  preserved 
the  ruins.  Constantinople,  on  the  contrary,  is  still  the  gem  of 
the  Orient — still  the  home  of  the  superb  Turk,  and  the  resort  of 
many  nations  of  the  east — still  all  that  fires  curiosity  and  excites 


270          SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  imagination  in  the  descriptions  of  the  traveller.  I  was  com 
ing  to  a  living  city,  full  of  strange  people  and  strange  costumes 
language,  and  manners.  It  was,  to  the  places  I  had  seen,  like 
the  warm  and  breathing  woman  perfect  in  life,  to  the  interesting 
but  lifeless  and  mutilated  statue. 

As  the  distance  lessened,  the  tall,  slender,  glittering  minarets 
of  a  hundred  mosques  were  first  distinguishable.  Towers,  domes, 
and  dark  spots  of  cypresses  next  emerged  to  the  eye,  and  a  sea  of 
buildings,  followed  undulating  in  many  swells  and  widening  along 
the  line  of  the  sea  as  if  we  were  approaching  a  continent  covered 
to  its  farthest  limits  with  one  unbroken  city. 

We  kept  on  with  unslackened  sail  to  the  shore  which  seemed 
closed  before  us.  A  few  minutes  opened  to  us  a  curving  bay, 
winding  in  and  lost  to  the  eye  behind  a  swelling  eminence,  and  as 
if  mosques,  towers,  and  palaces,  had  spread  away  and  opened  to 
receive  us  into  their  bosom,  we  shot  into  the  heart  of  a  busy  city, 
and  dropped  anchor  at  the  feet  of  a  cluster  of  hills,  studded  from 
base  to  summit  with  buildings  of  indescribable  splendor. 

An  American  gentleman  had  joined  us  in  the  Dardanelles,  and 
stood  with  us,  looking  at  the  transcendant  panorama.  "  What  is 
this  lovely  point,  gemmed  with  gardens  and  fantastic  palaces,  and 
with  every  variety  of  tree  and  building  on  its  gentle  slope  de 
scending  so  gracefully  to  the  sea  ?"  The  Seraglio  !  "  What  is 
i  his  opening  of  bright  water,  crowded  with  shipping,  and  sprinkled 
with  these  fairy  boats  so  gayly  decked  and  so  slender,  shooting 
from  side  to  side  like  the  crossing  flight  of  a  thousand  arrows  ?" 
The  Golden  Horn^  that  winds  up  through  the  city  and  terminates 
in  the  valley  of  Sweet  Waters  !  "  And  what  is  this  other  stream, 
opening  into  the  hills  to  the  east,  and  lined  with  glittering  palaces 
as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach  ?"  The  Bosphorus.  "  And  what  is 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  271 

this,  and  that,  and  the  other  exquisite  and  surpassing  beauty — 
features  of  a  scene  to  which  the  earth  surely  has  no  shadow  of  a 
parallel !"  Patience  !  patience  !  We  have  a  month  before  us,  and 
we  will  see. 


LETTER  XXXII, 

Constantinople— An  Adventure  with  the  Dogs  of  Stamboul— The  Sultan's  Kiosk— Tho 
Bazars — Georgians — Sweetmeats — Hindoostanee  Fakeers — Turkish  Women  and  their 
Eyes— The  Jews— A  Token  of  Home— The  Drug  Bazar— Opium  Eaters. 

THE  invariable  "  Where  am  7  ?"  with  which  a  traveller  awakes 
at  morning  was  to  me  never  more  agreeably  answered.  At  Con 
stantinople  !  The  early  ship-of-war  summons  to  "  turn  out,"  was 
obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  with  the  first  boat  after  breakfast  I  was 
set  ashore  at  Tophana,  the  landing  place  of  the  Frank  quarter  of 
Stamboul. 

A  row  of  low-built  cafes,  with  a  latticed  enclosure  and  a  plenti 
ful  shade  of  plane-trees  on  the  right;  a  large  square,  in  the 
centre  of  which  stood  a  magnificent  Persian  fountain,  as  large  as 
a  church,  covered  with  lapis-lazuli  and  gold,  and  endless  inscrip 
tions  in  Turkish  ;  a  mosque  buried  in  cypresses  on  the  left ;  a 
hundred  indolent-looking,  large-trousered,  mustached,  and  withal 
very  handsome  men,  and  twice  the  number  of  snarling,  wolfish, 
and  half-starved  dogs,  are  some  of  the  objects  which  the  first 
glance,  as  I  stepped  on  shore,  left  on  my  memory. 

I  had  heard  that  the  dogs  of  Constantinople  knew  and  hated  a 
Christian.  By  the  time  I  had  reached  the  middle  of  the  square, 
a  wretched  puppy  at  my  heels  had  succeeded  in  announcing  the 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN,        373 


presence  of  a  stranger.  They  were  upon  me  in  a  moment  from 
every  heap  of  garbage,  and  every  hole  and  corner.  I  was  begin 
ning  to  be  seriously  alarmed,  standing  perfectly  still,  with  at 
least  a  hundred  infuriated  dogs  barking  in  a  circle  around  me, 
when  an  old  Turk,  selling  sherbet  under  the  shelter  of  the  pro 
jecting  roof  of  the  Persian  fountain,  came  kindly  to  my  relief. 
A  stone  or  two  well  aimed,  and  a  peculiar  cry,  which  I  have  since 
tried  in  vain  to  imitate,  dispersed  the  hungry  wretches,  and  I 
took  a  glass  of  the  old  man's  raisin-water,  and  pursued  my  way 
up  the  street.  The  circumstance,  however,  had  discolored  my 
anticipations ;  nothing  looked  agreeably  to  me  for  an  hour 
after  it. 

I  ascended  through  narrow  and  steep  lanes,  between  rows  of 
small  wooden  houses,  miserably  built  and  painted,  to  the  main 
street  of  the  quarter  of  Pera.  Here  live  all  Christians  and  Chris 
tian  ambassadors,  and  here  I  found  our  secretary  of  legation,  Mr. 
H.,  who  kindly  offered  to  accompany  me  to  old  Stamboul. 

"VVe  descended  to  the  water-side,  and  stepping  into  an  egg-shell 
caique,  crossed  the  Golden  Horn,  and  landed  on  a  pier  between 
the  sultan's  green  kiosk  and  the  seraglio.  I  was  fortunate  iu  a 
companion  who  knew  the  people  and  spoke  the  language.  The 
red-trousered  and  armed  kervas,  at  the  door  of  the  kiosk,  took 
his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  after  a  bribe  and  a  little  persuasion,  and 
motioned  to  a  boy  to  show  us  the  interior.  A  circular  room,  with 
a  throne  of  solid  silver  embraced  in  a  double  colonnade  of  marble 
pillars,  and  covered  with  a  roof  laced  with  lapis  lazuli  and  gold, 
formed  the  place  from  which  Sultan  Mahmoud  formerly  contem 
plated,  on  certain  days,  the  busy  and  beautiful  panorama  of  his 
matchless  bay.  The  kiosk  is  on  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  the 
poorest  caikjee  might  row  his  little  bark  undei  its  threshold,  and 
12* 


274        SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN 


fill  his  monarch's  eye,  and  look  on  his  monarch's  face  with  the 
proudest.  The  green  canvass  curtains,  which  envelop  the  whole 
building,  have,  for  a  long  time,  been  unraised,  and  Mahmoud  is 
oftener  to  be  seen  on  horseback,  in  the  dress  of  a  European  offi 
cer,  guarded  by  troops  in  European  costume  and  array.  The 
change  is  said  to  be  dangerously  unpopular. 

"We  walked  on  to  the  square  of  Sultana  Yalide.  Its  large 
area  was  crowded  with  the  buyers  and  sellers  of  a  travelling  fair — 
a  sort  of  Jews'  market  held  on  different  days  in  different  parts  of 
this  vast  capital.  In  Turkey  every  nation  is  distinguished  by  its 
dress,  and  almost  as  certainly  by  its  branch  of  trade.  On  the 
right  of  the  gate,  under  a  huge  plane-tree,  shedding  its  yellow 
leaves  among  the  various  wares,  stood  the  booths  of  a  group  of 
Georgians,  their  round  and  rosy-dark  faces  (you  would  know 
their  sisters  must  be  half  houris)  set  off  with  a  tall  black  cap  of 
curling  wool,  their  small  shoulders  with  a  tight  jacket  studded 
with  silk  buttons,  and  their  waists  with  a  voluminous  silken  sash, 
whose  fringed  ends  fell  over  their  heels  as  they  sat  cross-legged, 
patiently  waiting  for  custom.  Hardware  is  the  staple  of  their 
shops,  but  the  cross-pole  in  front  is  fantastically  hung  with  silken 
garters  and  tasselled  cords,  and  their  own  Georgian  caps,  with  a 
gay  crown  of  cashmere,  enrich  and  diversify  the  shelves.  I 
bought  a  pair  or  two  of  blushing  silk  garters  of  a  young  man, 
whose  eyes  and  teeth  should  have  been  a  woman's,  and  we  strolled 
on  to  the  next  booth. 

Here  was  a  Turk,  with  a  table  covered  by  a  broad  brass  waiter, 
on  which  was  displayed  a  tempting  array  of  mucilage,  white  and 
pink,  something  of  the  consistency  of  blanc-mange.  A  dish  of 
sugar,  small  gilded  saucers,  and  long-handled,  flat,  brass  spoons, 
with  a  vase  of  rose-water,  completed  his  establishment.  The 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  275 


grave  mussulman  cut,  sugared,  and  scented  the  portions  for  which 
we  asked,  without  condescending  to  look  at  us  or  open  his  lips, 
and,  with  a  glass  of  mild  and  pleasant  sherbet  from  his  next 
neighbor,  as  immovable  a  Turk  as  himself,  we  had  lunched,  ex 
tremely  to  my  taste,  for  just  five  cents  American  currency. 

A  little  farther  on  I  was  struck  with  the  appearance  of  two 
inen,  who  stood  bargaining  with  a  Jew.  My  friend  knew  them 
immediately  as  fakecrs,  or  religious  devotees  from  Hindoostan. 
He  addressed  them  in  Arabic,  and,  during  their  conversation  of 
ten  minutes,  I  studied  them  with  some  curiosity.  They  were 
singularly  small,  without  any  appearance  of  dwarfishness,  their 
limbs  and  persons  slight,  and  very  equally  and  gracefully  propor 
tioned.  Their  features  were  absolutely  regular,  and,  though 
small  as  a  child's  of  ten  or  twelve  years,  were  perfectly  developed. 
They  appeared  like  men  seen  through  an  inverted  opera-glass. 
An  exceedingly  ash}',  olive  complexion,  hair  of  a  kind  of  glitter 
ing  black,  quite  unlike  in  texture  au<i  color  any  I  have  ever  be 
fore  seen  ;  large,  brilliant,  intense  black  eyes,  and  lips  (the  most 
peculiar  feature  of  all),  of  lustreless  black*  completed  the  por 
traits  of  two  as  remarkable-looking  men  as  I  have  anywhere  met. 
Their  costume  was  humble,  but  not  unpicturesque.  A  well-worn 
sash  of  red  silk  enveloped  the  waist  in  many  folds,  and  sustained 
trousers  tight  to  the  legs,  but  of  the  Turkish  ampleness  over  the 
hips.  Their  small  feet,  which  seemed  dried  up  to  the  bone,  were 
bare.  A  blanket,  with  a  hood  marked  in  a  kind  of  arabesque 
figure,  covered  their  shoulders,  and  a  high  quilted  cap,  with  a 
rim  of  curling  wool,  was  pressed  down  closely  over  the  forehead. 

*  I  have  since  met  many  of  them  in  the  streets  of  Constantinople,  and  I 
find  it  a  distinguishing  feature  of  their  race.  They  look  as  if  their  lips  were 
dead — as  if  the  blood  had  dried  beneath  the  skin. 


276  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


A  crescent-shaped  tin  vessel,  suspended  by  a  leather  strap  to  the 
waist,  and  serving  the  two  purposes  of  a  charity  box,  and  a  re 
ceptacle  for  bread  and  vegetables,  seemed  a  kind  of  badge  of  their 
profession.  They  were  lately  from  Hindoostan,  and  were  begging 
their  way  still  farther  into  Europe.  They  received  our  proffered 
alms  without  any  mark  of  surprise  or  even  pleasure,  and  laying 
their  hands  on  their  breasts,  with  countenances  perfectly  im 
movable,  gave  us  a  Hindoostanee  blessing,  and  resumed  their 
traffic.  They  see  the  world,  these  rovers  on  foot !  And  I  think, 
could  I  see  it  myself  in  no  other  way,  I  would  e'en  take  sandal 
and  scrip,  and  traverse  it  as  a  dervish  or  beggar  ! 

The  alleys  between  the  booths  were  crowded  with  Turkish  wo 
men,  who  seemed  the  chief  purchasers.  The  effect  of  their  en 
veloped  persons,  and  eyes  peering  from  the  muslin  folds  of  the 
yashmack,  is  droll  to  a  stranger.  It  seemed  to  me  like  a  mas- 
qiin  jido,  and  the  singular  sound  of  female  voices,  speaking  through 
several  thicknesses  of  a  stuff,  bound  so  close  on  the  mouth  as  to 
show  the  shape  of  the  lips  exactly,  perfected  the  delusion.  It 
reminded  me  of  the  half-smothered  tones  beneath  the  masks  in 
carnival- time.  A  clothes-bag  with  yellow  slippers  would  have 
about  as  much  form,  and  might  be  walked  about  with  as  much 
grace  as  a  Turkish  woman.  Their  fat  hands,  the  finger-nails  dyed 
with  henna,  and  their  unexceptionably  magnificent  eyes,  are  all 
that  the  stranger  is  permitted  to  peruse.  It  is  strange  how  uni 
versal  is  the  beauty  of  the  eastern  eye.  I  luive  looked  in  vain 
hitherto,  for  a  small  or  an  unexprcssive  one.  It  is  quite  startling 
to  meet  the  gaze  of  such  large  liquid  orbs,  bent  upon  you  from 
their  long  silken  fringes,  with  the  unwinking  steadiness  of  look 
common  to  the  females  of  this  country.  Wrapped  in  their  veils, 
they  seem  unconscious  of  attracting  attention  T  and  turn  and  look 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  377 


you  full  in  the  face,  while  you  seek  in  vain  for  a  pair  of  lips  to 
explain  by  their  expression  the  meaning  of  such  particular 
notice. 

The  Jew  is  more  distinguishable  at  Constantinople  than  else 
where.  He  is  compelled  to  wear  the  dress  of  his  tribe  (and  its 
"badge  of  sufferance,"  too),  and  you  will  find  him,  wherever 
there  is  trafficking  to  be  done,  in  a  small  cap,  not  ungracefully 
shaped,  twisted  about  with  a  peculiar  handkerchief  of  a  small 
black  print,  and  set  back  so  as  to  show  the  whole  of  his  national 
high  and  narrow  forehead.  He  is  always  good  humored  and  ob 
sequious,  and  receives  the  curse  with  which  his  officious  offers  of 
service  are  often  repelled,  with  a  smile,  and  a  hope  that  he  may 
serve  you  another  time.  One  of  them,  as  we  passed  his  booth, 
called  our  attention  to  some  newly-opened  bales,  bearing  the 
stamp,  "  TREMONT  MILL,  LOWELL,  MASS."  It  was  a  long  dis 
tance  from  home  to  meet  such  familiar  words  ! 

We  left  the  square  of  the  sultan  mother,  and  entered  a  street 
of  confectioners.  The  east  is  famous  for  its  sweetmeats,  and  truly 
a  more  tempting  array  never  visited  the  Christmas  dream  of  a 
schoolboy.  Even  Felix,  the  patimer  nonpareil  of  Paris,  might 
take  a  lesson  in  jellies.  And  then  for  "  candy"  of  all  colors  of 
the  rainbow  (not  shut  enviously  in  with  pitiful  glass  cases,  but 
piled  up  to  the  ceiling  in  a  shop  all  in  the  street,  as  it  might  be 
in  E utopia,  with  nothing  to  pay),  it  is  like  a  scene  in  the  Arabian 
Nights.  The  last  part  of  the  parenthesis  is  almost  true,  for  with  a 
small  coin  of  the  value  of  two  American  cents,  I  bought  of  a  certain 
kind  called,  in  Turkish,  "  peace  to  your  throat"  (they  call  things  by 
such  poetical  names  in  the  east),  the  quarter  of  which  I  could 
not  have  eaten,  even  in  my  best  "days  of  sugar  candy."  The 
women  of  Constantinople,  I  am  told,  almost  live  on  confectionary. 


278          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


They  eat  incredible  quantities.  The  sultan's  eight  hundred 
wives  and  women  employ  five  hundred  cooks,  and  consume  two 
thousand  five  hundred  pounds  of  sugar  daily  !  It  is  probably  the 
most  expensive  item  of  the  seraglio  kitchen. 

A  turn  or  two  brought  us  to  the  entrance  of  a  long  dark  pas 
sage  ,  of  about  the  architecture  of  a  covered  bridge  in  our  country. 
A  place  richer  in  the  oriental  and  picturesque  could  scarce  be 
found  between  the  Danube  and  the  Nile.  It  is  the  bazar  of 
drugs.  As  your  eye  becomes  accustomed  to  the  light,  you  dis 
tinguish  vessels  of  every  size  and  shape,  ranged  along  the  reced 
ing  shelves  of  a  stall,  and  filled  to  the  uncovered  brim  with  the 
various  productions  of  the  Orient.  The  edges  of  the  baskets  and 
jars  are  turned  over  with  rich  colored  papers  (a  peculiar  color  to 
every  drug),  and  broad  spoons  of  boxwood  are  crossed  on  the  top. 
There  is  the  henna  in  a  powder  of  deep  brown,  with  an  envelope 
of  deep  Tyrian  purple,  aud  all  the  precious  gums  in  their  jars, 
golden-leafed,  and  spices  and  dyes  and  medicinal  roots,  and  above 
hang  anatomies  of  curious  monsters,  dried  and  stuffed,  and  in  the 
midst  of  all,  motionless  as  the  box  of  sulphur  beside  him,  and 
almost  as  yellow,  sits  a  venerable  Turk,  with  his  beard  on  his 
knees,  and  his  pipe-bowl  thrust  away  over  his  drugs,  its  ascend 
ing  smoke-curls  his  only  sign  of  life.  This  class  of  merchants  is 
famous  for  opium  eaters,  and  if  you  pass  at  the  right  hour,  you 
find  the  large  eye  of  the  silent  smoker  dilated  and  wandering,  his 
fingers  busy  in  tremulously  counting  his  spicewood  beads,  and  the 
roof  of  his  stall  wreathed  with  clouds  of  smoke,  the  vent  to  every" 
species  of  eastern  enthusiasm.  If  you  address  him,  he  smiles, 
and  puts  his  hand  to  his  forehead  and  breast,  but  condescends  to 
answer  no  question  till  it  is  thrice  reiterated,  and  then  in  the 
briefest  word  possible,  he  answers  wide  of  your  meaning,  strokes 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  279 


the  smoke  out  of  his  mustache,  and  slipping  the  costly  amber  be 
tween  his  lips,  abandons  himself  again  to  his  exalted  revery.  I 
write  this  after  being  a  week  at  Constantinople,  during  which  the 
Egyptian  bazar  has  been  my  frequent  and  most  fancy-stirring 
lounge.  Of  its  forty  merchants,  there  is  not  one  whose  pic 
turesque  features  are  not  imprinted  deeply  in  my  memory.  I 
have  idled  up  and  down  in  the  dim  light,  and  fingered  the  soft 
henna,  and  bought  small  parcels  of  incense-wood  for  my  pastille 
lamp,  studying  the  remarkable  faces  of  the  unconscious  old  mus- 
sulmans,  till  my  mind  became  somehow  tinctured  of  the  east,  and 
(what  will  be  better  understood)  my  clothes  steeped  in  the  mixed 
and  agreeable  odors  of  the  thousand  spices.  Where  are  the 
painters,  that  they  have  never  found  this  mine  of  admirable 
studies  ?  There  is  not  a  corner  of  Constantinople,  nor  a  man  in 
its  streets,  that  were  not  a  novel  and  a  capital  subject  for  the 
pencil.  Pray,  Mr.  Cole,  leave  things  that  have  been  painted  so 
often,  as  aqueducts  and  Italian  ruins  (though  you  do  make  deli 
cious  pictures,  and  could  never  waste  time  or  pencils  on  anything), 
and  come  to  the  east  for  one  single  book  of  sketches  !  How  I 
have  wished  I  was  a  painter  since  I  have  been  here  ! 


LETTER   XXXIII, 

The  Sultan's  Perfumer— Etiquette  of  Smoking— Temptations  for  Purchasers— Exquisite 
Flavor  of  the  Turkish  Perfumes— The  Slave  Market  of  Constantinople— Slaves  from 
various  Countries,  Greek,  Circassian,  Egyptian,  Persian — African  female  Slaves — An 
Improvisatiice — Exposure  for  Sale — Circassian  Beauties  prohibited  to  Europeans — First 
•  sight  of  one,  eating  a  Tie — Shock  to  romantic  Fedings — Beautiful  Arab  Girl  chained  to 
the  Floor — The  Silk  Merchant — A  cheap  Purchase. 

AN  Abyssinian  slave,  with  bracelets  on  his  wrists  and  ankles, 
a  white  turban,  folded  in  the  most  approved  fashion  around  his 
curly  head,  and  a  showy  silk  sash  about  his  waist,  addressed  us 
in  broken  English  as  we  passed  a  small  shop  on  the  way  to  the 
Bozesteiu.  His  master  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  my  polyglot 
friend,  and,  passing  in  at  a  side  door,  we  entered  a  dimly-lighted 
apartment  in  the  rear,  and  were  received,  with  a  profusion  of 
salaams,  by  the  sultan's  perfumer.  For  a  Turk,  Mustapha 
Effendi  was  the  most  voluble  gentleman  in  his  discourse  that  1 
had  yet  met  in  Stamboul.  A  sparse  gray  beard  just  sprinkled  a 
pair  of  blown-up  cheeks,  and  a  collapsed  double  chin  that  fell  in 
curtain  folds  to  his  bosom,  a  mustache,  of  seven  or  eight  hairs  on 
a  side,  curled  demurely  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  his  heavy, 
oily  black  eyes  twinkled  in  their  pursy  recesses,  with  the  salacious 
good  humor  of  a  satyr  ;  and,  as  he  coiled  his  legs  under  him  on 
the  broad  ottoman  in  the  corner,  his  boneless  body  completely 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.        281 

lapped  over  them,  knees  and  all,  and  left  him,  apparently,  bolt 
upright  on  his  trunk,  like  a  man  amputated  at  the  hips.  A  string 
of  beads  in  one  hand,  and  a  splendid  narghile ,  or  rose-water  pipe 
in  the  other,  completed  as  fine  a  picture  of  a  mere  animal  as  I 
remember  to  have  met  in  my  travels. 

My  learned  friend  pursued  the  conversation  in  Turkish,  aud, 
in  a  few  minutes,  the  black  entered,  with  pipes  of  exquisite  amber 
filled  with  the  mild  Persian  tobacco.  Leaving  his  slippers  at  the 
door,  he  dropped  upon  his  knee,  and  placed  two  small  brass 
dishes  in  the  centre  of  the  room  to  receive  the  hot  pipe-bowls, 
and,  with  a  showy  flourish  of  his  long,  naked  arm,  brought  round 
the  rich  mouth-pieces  to  our  lips.  A  spicy  atom  of  some  aro 
matic  composition,  laid  in  the  centre  of  the  bowl,  removed  from 
the  smoke  all  that  could  offend  the  most  delicate  organs,  and,  as 
I  looked  about  the  perfumer's  retired  sanctum,  and  my  eye  rested 
on  the  small  heaps  of  spice-woods,  the  gilded  pastilles,  the  curi 
ous  bottles  of  ottar  of  roses  and  jasmine,  and  thence  to  the  broad, 
soft  divans  extending  quite  around  the  room,  piled  in  the  corners 
with  cushions  of  down,  I  thought  Mustapha,  the  perfumer,  among 
those  who  lived  by  traffic,  had  the  cleanliest  and  most  gentleman 
like  vocation. 

Observing  that  I  smoked  but  little,  Mustapha  gave  an  order  to 
his  familiar,  who  soon  appeared,  with  two  small  gilded  saucers ; 
one  containing  a  jelly  of  incomparable  delicacy  and  whiteness, 
and  the  other  a  candied  liquid,  tinctured  with  quince  and  cinna 
mon.  My  friend  explained  to  me  that  I  was  to  eat  both,  and 
that  Mustapha  said,  "  on  his  head  be  the  injury  it  would  do  me." 
There  needed  little  persuasion.  The  cook  to  a  court  of  fairies 
might  have  mingled  sweets  less  delicately. 

For  all  this  courtesy  Mustapha  finds  his  offset  in  the  opened 


282         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


hearts  of  his  customers,  when  the  pipes  are  smoked  out,  and 
there  is  nothing  to  delay  the  offer  of  his  costly  wares.  First  call 
ing  for  ajar  of  jessamine,  than  which  the  sultan  himself  perfumes 
his  beard  with  no  rarer,  he  turned  it  upside  down,  and,  leaning 
towards  me,  rubbed  the  moistened  cork  over  my  nascent  mus 
tache,  and  waited  with  a  satisfied  certainty  for  my  expression  of 
admiration  as  it  "  ascended  me  into  the  brain."  There  was  no 
denying  it  was  of  celestial  flavor.  He  held  up  his  fingers  : 
"  One  ?  two  ?  three  ?  ten  ?  How  many  bottles  shall  your  slave 
fill  for  you  ?"  It  was  a  most  lucid  pantomime.  An  interpreter 
would  have  been  superfluous. 

The  ottar  of  roses  stood  next  on  the  shelf.  It  was  the  best 
ever  sent  from  Adrainople.  Bottle  after  bottle  of  different  ex 
tracts  were  passed  under  nasal  review  ;  each,  one  might  think, 
the  triumph  of  the  alchymy  of  flowers,  and  of  each  a  specimen 
was  laid  aside  for  me  in  a*  slender  vial,  dexterously  capped  with 
vellum,  and  tied  with  a  silken  thread  by  the  adroit  Abyssinian. 
I  escaped  emptying  my  purse  by  a  single  worthless  coin,  the  fee 
I  required  for  my  return  boat  over  the  Golden  Horn — but  I  Kad 
seen  Mustapha,  the  perfumer. 

My  friend  led  the  way  through  several  intricate  windings,  and 
passing  through  a  gateway,  we  entered  a  circular  area,  surrounded 
with  a  single  building  divided  into  small  apartments,  faced  with 
open  porches.  It  was  the  slave-market  of  Constantinople.  My 
first  idea  was  to  look  round  for  Don  Juan  and  Johnson.  In 
their  place  we  found  slaves  of  almost  every  eastern  nation,  who 
looked  at  us  with  an  u  I  wish  to  heaven  that  somebody  would 
buy  us"  sort  of  an  expression,  but  none  so  handsome  as  Haidee's 
lover.  In  a  low  cellar,  beneath  one  of  the  apartments,  lay 
twenty  or  thirty  white  men  chained  together  by  the  legs,  and 


ON    BOARD    AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  283 


with  scarce  the  covering  required  by  decency.  A  small-featured 
Arab  stood  at  the  door,  wrapped  in  a  purple-hooded  cloak,  and 
Mr.  H.  addressing  him  in  Arabic,  inquired  their  nations.  He 
was  not  their  master,  but  the  stout  fellow  in  the  corner,  he  said, 
was  a  Greek  by  his  regular  features,  and  the  boy  chained  to  him 
was  a  Circassian  by  his  rosy  cheek  and  curly  hair,  and  the  black- 
lipped  villain  with  tbe  :-car  over  his  forehead,  was  an  Egyptian, 
doubtless,  and  the  two  that  looked  like  brothers,  were  Georgians 
or  Persians,  or  perhaps  Bulgarians.  Poor  devils  !  they  lay  on 
the  clay  floor  with  a  cold  easterly  wind  blowing  in  upon  them, 
dispirited  and  chilled,  with  the  prospect  of  being  sold  to  a  task 
master  for  their  best  hope  of  relief. 

A  shout  of  African  laughter  drew  us  to  the  other  side  of  the 
bazar.  A  dozen  Nubian  damsels,  flat-nosed  and  curly-headed, 
but  as  straight  and  fine-limbed  as  pieces  of  black  statuary,  lay 
around  on  a  platform  in  front  of  their  apartment,  while  one  sat 
upright  in  the  middle,  and  amused  her  companions  by  some  nar 
ration  accompanied  by  grimaces  irresistibly  ludicrous.  Each  had 
a  somewhat  scant  blanket,  black  with  dirt,  and  worn  as  carelessly ' 
as  a  lady  carries  her  shawl.  Their  black,  polished  frames  were 
disposed  about,  in  postures  a  painter  would  scarce  call  ungrace 
ful,  and  no  start  or  change  of  attitude  when  we  approached  be 
trayed  the  innate  coyness  of  the  sex.  After  watching  the  impro- 
visatrice  awhile,  we  were  about  passing  on,  when  a  man  came  out 
from  the  inner  apartment,  and  beckoning  to  one  of  them  to  fol 
low  him,  walked  into  the  middle  of  the  bazar.  She  was  a  tall, 
arrow-straight  lass  of  about  eighteen,  with  the  form  of  a  nymph, 
and  the  head  of  a  baboon.  He  commenced  by  crying  in  a  voice 
that  must  have  been  educated  in  the  gallery  of  a  minaret,  setting 
forth  the  qualities  of  the  animal -at  his  back,  who' was  to  be  sold 


284         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

at  public  auction  forthwith.  As  he  closed  his  harangue  he  slipped 
his  pipe  back  into  his  mouth,  and  lifting  the  scrimped  blanket  of 
the  ebon  Venus,  turned  her  twice  round,  and  walked  to  the  other 
side  of  the  bazar,  where  his  cry  and  the  exposure  of  the  submis 
sive  wench  were  repeated. 

We  left  him  to  finish  his  circuit,  and  walked  on  in  search  of 
the  Circassian  beauties  of  the  market.  Several  turbaned  slave- 
merchants  were  sitting  round  a  manghal,  or  brass  vessel  of  coals, 
smoking  or  making  their  coffee,  in  one  of  the  porticoes,  and  my 
friend  addressed  one  of  them  with  an  inquiry  on  the  subject. 
"  There  were  Circassians  in  the  bazar,"  he  said,  "  but  there  was 
an  express  firman,  prohibiting  the  exposing  or  selling  of  them  to 
Franks,  under  heavy  penalties."  We  tried  to  bribe  him.  It 
was  of  no  use.  He  pointed  to  the  apartment  in  which  they  were, 
and,  as  it  was  upon  the  ground  floor,  I  took  advice  of  modest 
assurance,  and  approaching  the  window,  sheltered  my  eyes  with 
my  hand,  and  looked  in.  A  great,  fat  girl,  with  a  pair  of  saucer- 
like  black  eyes,  and  cheeks  as  red  and  round  as  a  cabbage-rose, 
sat  facing  the  window,  devouring  a  pie  most  voraciously.  She 
had  a  small  carpet  spread  beneath  her,  and  sat  on  one  of  her 
heels,  with  a  row  of  fat,  red  toes,  whose  nails  were  tinged  with 
henna,  just  protruding  on  the  other  side  from  the  folds  of  her 
ample  trousers.  The  light  was  so  dim  that  I  could  not  see  the 
features  of  the  others,  of  whom  there  were  six  or  seven  in  groups 
in  the  corners.  And  so  faded  the  bright  colors  of  a  certain  boyish 
dream  of  Circassian  beauty  !  A  fat  girl  eating  a  pie  ! 

As  we  were  about  leaving  the  bazar,  the  door  of  a  small 
apartment  near  the  gate  opened,  and  disclosed  the  common 
cheerless  interior  of  a  chamber  in  a  khan.  In  the  centre 
burned  the  almost  extinguished  embers  of  a  Turkish  manghal, 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  285 


and,  at  the  moment  of  my  passing,  a  figure  rose  from  a  prostrate 
position,  and  exposed,  as  a  shawl  dropped  from  her  face  in  rising, 
the  exquisitely  small  features  and  bright  olive  skin  of  an  Arab 
girl.  Her  hair  was  black  as  night,  and  the  bright  braid  of  it 
across  her  forehead  seemed  but  another  shade  of  the  warm  dark 
eye  that  lifted  its  heavy  and  sleepy  lids,  and  looked  out  of  the 
accidentally  opened  door  as  if  she  were  trying  to  remember  how 
she  had  dropped  out  of  "  Araby  the  blest"  upon  so  cheerless  a 
spot.  She  was  very  beautiful.  I  should  have  taken  her  for  a 
child,  from  her  diminutive  size,  but  for  a  certain  fulness  in  the 
limbs  and  a  womanly  ripeness  in  the  bust  and  features.  The 
same  dusky  lips  which  give  the  males  of  her  race  a  look  of 
ghastliness,  either  by  contrast  with  a  row  of  dazzlingly  white 
teeth,  or  from  their  round  and  perfect  chiselling,  seemed  in  her 
almost  a  beauty.  I  had  looked  at  her  several  minutes  before  she 
chose  to  consider  it  as  impertinence.  At  last  she  slowly  raised 
her  little  symmetrical  figure  (the  "Barbary  shape"  the  old  poets 
talk  of),  and  slipping  forward  to  reach  the  latch,  I  observed  that 
she  was  chained  by  one  of  her  ankles  to  a  ring  in  the  floor.  To 
think  that  only  a  "  malignant  and  a  turbaned  Turk"  may  possess 
such  a  Hebe  !  Beautiful  creature  !  Your  lot, 

"  By  some  o'er-hasty  angel  was  misplaced, 
In  Fate's  eternal  volume." 

And  yet  it  is  very  possible  she  would  eat  pies,  too  ! 

We  left  the  slave-market,  and  wishing  to  buy  a  piece  of 
Brusa  silk  for  a  dressing-gown,  my  friend  conducted  me  to  a 
secluded  khan  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  far-famed  "  burnt 
column."  Entering  by  a  very  mean  door,  closed  within  by  a 
curtain,  we  stood  on  fine  Indian  mats  in  a  large  room,  piled  to 


286         SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


the  ceiling  with  silks  enveloped  in  the  soft  satin-paper  of  the 
east.  Here  again  coffee  must  be  handed  round  before  a  single 
fold  of  the  old  Armenian's  wares  could  see  the  light,  and 
fortunate  it  is,  since  one  may  not  courteously  refuse  it,  that 
Turkish  coffee  is  very  delicious,  and  served  in  acorn  cups  for 
size.  A  handsome  boy  took  away  the  little  filagree  holders  at 
last,  and  the  old  trader,  setting  his  huge  calpack  firmly  on  his 
shaven  head,  began  to  reach  down  his  costly  wares.  I  had 
never  seen  such  an  array.  The  floor  was  soon  like  a  shivered 
rainbow,  almost  paining  the  eye  with  the  brilliancy  and  variety 
of  beautiful  fabrics.  And  all  this  to  tempt  the  taste  of  a  poor 
description-monger,  who  wanted  but  a  plain  role  de  chambre  to 
conceal  from  a  chance  visitor  the  poverty  of  an  unmade  toilet ! 
There  were  stuffs  of  gold  for  a  queen's  wardrobe  ;  there  were 
gauze-like  fabrics  interwoven  with  flowers  of  silver  ;  and  there 
was  no  leaf  in  botany,  nor  device  in  antiquity,  that  was  not 
imitated  in  their  rich  borderings.  I  laid  my  hand  on  a  plain 
pattern  of  blue  and  silver,  and  half-shutting  my  eyes  to  imagine 
how  I  should  look  in  it,  resolved  upon  the  degree  of  depletion 
which  my  purse  could  bear,  and  inquired  the  price.  As  "  green 
door  and  brass  knocker"  says  of  his  charges  in  the  farce,  it  was 
"  ridiculously  trifling."  It  is  a  cheap  country,  the  east !  A 
beautiful  Circassian  slave  for  a  hundred  dollars  (if  you  are  a 
Turk),  and  an  emperor's  dressing-gown  for  three  !  The  Arme 
nian  laid  his  hand  on  his  breast,  as  if  he  had  made  a  good  sale 
of  it,  the  coffee-bearer  wanted  but  a  sous,  and  that  was  charity  ; 
and  thus,  by  a  mere  change  of  place,  that  which  were  but  a 
gingerbread  expenditure  becomes  a  ric\  man's  purchase. 


LETTER    XXXIV, 

The  Bosphorus— Turkish  Palaces— The  Black  Sea— Buyukdore. 

WE  left  the  ship  with  two  caiques,  each  pulled  by  three  men, 
and  carrying  three  persons,  on  an  excursion  to  the  Black  Sea. 
We  were  followed  by  the  captain  in  his  fast-pulling  gig  with  six 
oars,  who  proposed  to  beat  the  feathery  boats  of  the  country  in  a 
twenty  miles7  pull  against  the  tremendous  current  of  the 
Bosphorus. 

The  day  was  made  for  us.  We  coiled  ourselves  a  la  Turque, 
in  the  bottom  of  the  sharp  caique,  and  as  our  broad-brimmed 
pagans,  after  the  first  mile,  took  off  their  shawled  turbans, 
unwound  their  cashmere  girdles,  laid  aside  their  gold-broidered 
jackets,  and  with  nothing  but  the  flowing  silk  shirt  and  ample 
trousers  to  embarrass  their  action,  commenced  "  giving  way,"  in 
long,  energetic  strokes — I  say,  just  then,  with  the  sunshine  and 
the  west  wind  attempered  to  half  a  degree  warmer  than  the  blood 
(which  I  take  to  be  the  perfection  of  temperature),  and  a  long, 
long  autumn  day,  or  two,  or  three,  before  us,  and  not  a  thought  in 
the  company  that  was  not  kindly  and  joyous — just  then,  I  say,  I 
dropped  a  "  white  stone"  on  the  hour,  and  said,  "  Here  is  a 
moment,  old  Care,  that  has  slipped  through  your  rusty  fingers  ' 


288        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


You  have  pinched  me  the  past  somewhat,  and  you  will  doubtless 
mark  your  cross  on  the  future — but  the  present^  by  a  thousand 
pulses  in  this  warm  frame  laid  along  in  the  sunshine,  is  care-free, 
and  the  last  hour  of  Eden  came  not  on  a  softer  pinion  !" 

We  shot  along  through  the  sultan's  fleet  (some  eighteen  or 
twenty  lofty  ships-of-war,  looking,  as  they  lie  at  anchor  in  this 
narrow  strait,  of  a  supernatural  size),  and  then,  nearing  the 
European  shore  to  take  advantage  of  the  counter-current,  my 
kind  friend,  Mr.  H.,  who  is  at  home  on  these  beautiful  waters, 
began  to  name  to  me  the  palaces  we  were  shooting  by,  with  many 
a  little  history  of  their  occupants  between,  to  which  in  a  letter, 
written  with  a  traveller's  haste,  and  in  moments  stolen  from 
fatigue,  or  pleasure,  or  sleep,  I  could  not  pretend  to  do  justice. 

The  Bosphorus  is  quite — there  can  be  no  manner  of  doubt  of 
it — the  most  singularly  beautiful  scenery  in  the  world.  From 
Constantinople  to  the  Black  Sea,  a  distance  of  twenty  miles,  the 
two  shores  of  Asia  and  Europe,  separated  by  but  half  a  mile  of 
bright  blue  water,  are  lined  by  lovely  villages,  each  with  its 
splendid  palace  or  two,  its  mosque  and  minarets,  and  its  hundred 
small  houses  buried  in  trees,  each  with  its  small  dark  cemetery 
of  cypresses  and  turbaned  head-stones,  and  each  with  its  valley 
stretching  back  into  the  hills,  of  which  every  summit  and  swell 
is  crowned  with  a  fairy  kiosk.  There  is  no  tide,  and  the  palaces 
of  the  sultan  and  his  ministers,  and  of  the  wealthier  Turks  and 
Armenians,  are  built  half  over  the  water,  and  the  ascending 
caique  shoots  beneath  his  window,  within  the  length  of  the 
owner's  pipe  ;  and  with  his  own  slender  boat  lying  under  the 
stairs,  the  luxurious  oriental  makes  but  a  step  from  the  cushions 
of  his  saloon  to  those  of  a  conveyance,  which  bears  him  (so  built 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  289 

on  the  water's  edge  is  this  magnificent  capital)  to  almost  every 
spot  that  can  require  his  presence. 

A  beautiful  palace  is  that  of  the  "  Marble  Cradle,"  or 
Beshiktash,  the  sultan's  winter  residence.  Its  bright  gardens 
with  latticed  fences  (through  which,  as  we  almost  touched  in 
passing,  we  saw  the  gleam  of  the  golden  orange  and  lemon  trees, 
and  the  thousand  flowers,  and  heard  the  splash  of  fountains  and 
the  singing  of  birds)  lean  down  to  the  lip  of  the  Bosphorus,  and 
declining  to  the  south,  and  protected  from  everything  but  the 
sun  by  an  enclosing  wall,  enjoy,  like  the  terrace  of  old  King 
Rene,  a  perpetual  summer.  The  brazen  gates  open  on  the 
water,  and  the  palace  itself,  a  beautiful  building,  painted  in  the 
oriental -style,  of  a  bright  pink,  stands  between  the  gardens,  with 
its  back  to  the  wall. 

The  summer  palace,  where  the  "  unmuzzled  lion,"  as  his 
flatterers  call  HMI.  resides  at  present,  is  just  above  on  the  Asian 
side,  at  a  villn^?  called  Beylerbcy.  It  is  an  immense  building, 
painted  yellow,  with  white  cornices,  and  has  an  extensive  terrace- 
garden,  rising  over  the  hill  behind.  The  harem  has  eight 
projecting  wiDgs,  each  occupied  by  one  of  the  sultan's  lawful 
wives. 

Six  or  seven  miles  from  Constantinople,  on  the  European 
shore,  stands  the  serai  of  the  sultan's  eldest  sister.  It  is  a 
Chinese-looking  structure,  but  exceedingly  picturesque,  and  like 
everything  else  on  the  Bosphorus,  quite  in  keeping  with  the 
scene.  There  is  not  a  building  on  either  side,  from  the  Black 
Sea  to  Marmora, that  would  not  be  ridiculous  in  other  countries; 
and  yet,  here,  their  gingerbread  balconies,  imitation  perspectives, 
lattices,  bird-cages,  and  kiosks,  seem  as  naturally  the  growth  of 
the  climate  as  the  pomegranate  and  the  cypress.  The  old  maid 


290        SUMMER   CRUISE    IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

sultana  lives  here  with  a  hundred  or  two  female  slaves  of 
condition,  a  little  empress  in  an  empire  sufficiently  large  (for  a 
woman),  seeing  no  bearded  face,  it  is  presumed,  except  her  black 
eunuchs'  and  her  European  physician's,  and  having,  though  a 
sultan's  sister,  less  liberty  than  she  gives  even  her  slaves,  whom 
she  permits  to  marry  if  they  will.  She  can  neither  read  nor 
write,  and  is  said  to  be  fat,  indolent,  kind,  and  childish. 

A  little  farther  up,  the  sultan  is  repairing  a  fantastical  little 
palace  for  his  youngest  sister,  Esmeh  Sultana,  who  is  to  be 
married  to  Haleil  Pacha,  the  commander  of  the  artillery.  She 
is  about  twenty,  and,  report  says,  handsome  and  spirited.  Her 
betrothed  was  a  Georgian  slave,  bought  by  the  sultan  when  a 
boy,  and  advanced  by  the  usual  steps  of  favoritism.  By  the 
laws  of  imperial  marriages  in  this  empire,  he  is  to  be  banished  to 
a  distant  pachalik  after  living  with  his  wife  a  year,  his  connexion 
with  blood-royal  making  him  dangerously  eligible  to  the  throne. 
His  bride  remains  at  Stamboul,  takes  care  of  her  child  (if  sbo 
has  one),  and  lives  the  remainder  of  her  life  in  a  widow's 
seclusion,  with  an  allowance  proportioned  to  her  rank.  His 
consolation  is  provided  for  by  the  nmssulman  privilege  of  as 
many  more  wives  as  he  can  support.  Heaven  send  him  resigna 
tion — if  he  needs  it  notwithstanding. 

The  hakim,  or  chief  physician  to  the  sultan,  has  a  handsome 
palace  on  the  same  side  of  the  Bosphorus  ;  and  the  Armenian 
seraffs,  or  bankers,  though  compelled,  like  all  rayahs,  to  paint 
their  houses  of  a  dull  lead  color  (only  a  mussulman  may  live  in  a 
red  house  in  Constantinople),  are  said,  in  those  dusky-looking 
tenements,  to  maintain  a  luxury  not  inferior  to  that  of  the  sultan 
himself.  They  have  a  singular  effect,  those  black,  funereal 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  291 


houses,  standing  in  the  foreground  of  a  picture  of  such  light  and 
beauty  ! 

We  pass  Orta-keni)  the  Jew  village,  the  Arnaoutkeni,  occupied 
mostly  by  Greeks  ;  and  here,  if  you  have  read  "  the  Armenians," 
you  are  in  the  midst  of  its  most  stirring  scenes.  The  story  is  a 
true  one,  not  much  embellished  in  the  hands  of  the  novelist,  and 
there,  on  the  hill  opposite,  in  Anatolia,  stands  the  house  of  the 
heroine's  father,  the  old  seraff  Oglou,  and,  behind  the  garden, 
you  may  see  the  small  cottage,  inhabited,  secretly,  by  the 
enamored  Constantine,  and  here,  in  the  pretty  village  of  Bebec, 
lives,  at  this  moment,  the  widowed  and  disconsolate  Veronica, 
dressed  ever  in  weeds,  and  obstinately  refusing  all  society  but 
her  own  sad  remembrance.  I  must  try  to  see  her.  Her 
"  husband  of  a  night"  was  compelled  to  marry  again  by  the 
hospidar,  his  father  (but  this  is  not  in  the  novel,  you  will  remem 
ber),  and  there  is  late  news  that  his  wife  is  dead,  and  the  lovers 
of  romance  in  Stamboul  are  hoping  he  will  return  and  make  !» 
happier  sequel  than  the  sad  one  in  the  story.  The  "  orthodox 
catholic  Armenian,  broker  and  money-changer  to  boot,"  who  was 
to  have  been  her  forced  husband,  is  a  very  amiable  and  good- 
looking  fellow,  now  in  the  employ  of  our  charge  d'affaires  as 
second  dragoman. 

We  approach  Roumeli-Hissar,  a  jutting  point  almost  meeting 
a  similar  projection  from  the  Asian  shore,  crowned,  like  its 
vis-a-vis,  with  a  formidable  battery.  The  Bosphorus  here  is  but 
half  an  arrow-flight  in  width,  and  Europe  and  Asia,  here  at  their 
nearest  approach,  stand  looking  each  other  in  the  face,  like 
boxers,  with  foot  forward,  fist  doubled,  and  a  most  formidable 
row  of  teeth  on  either  side.  The  current  scampers  through 
between  the  two  castles,  as  if  happy  to  get  out  of  the  way,  and, 


292          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


up-stream,  it  is  hard  pulling  for  a  caique.  They  are  beautiful 
points,  however,  and  I  am  ashamed  of  my  coarse  simile,  when  I 
remember  how  green  was  the  foliage  that  half  enveloped  the 
walls,  and  how  richly  picturesque  the  hills  behind  them 
Here,  in  the  European  castle,  were  executed  the  greater  part 
of  the  janisaries,  hundreds  in  a  day,  of  the  manliest  frames  in 
the  empire,  thrown  into  the  rapid  Bosphorus,  headless  and 
stripped,  to  float,  unmourned  and  unregarded,  to  the  sea. 

Above  Roumeli-Hissar,  the  Bosphorus  spreads  again,  and  a 
curving  bay,  which  is  set  like  a  mirror,  in  a  frame  of  the  softest 
foliage  and  verdure,  is  pointed  out  as  a  spot  at  which  the 
crusaders,  Godfrey  of  Bouillon  and  Raymond  of  Toulouse, 
encamped  on  their  way  to  Palestine.  The  hills  beyond  this  are 
loftier,  and  the  Giant's  Mountain,  upon  which  the  Russian  army 
encamped  at  their  late  visit  to  the  Porte,  would  be  a  respectable 
eminence  in  any  country.  At  its  foot,  the  strait  expands  into 
^nlfce  a  lake,  and  on  the  European  side,  in  a  scoop  of  the  shore, 
exquisitely  placed,  stand  the  diplomatic  villages  of  Terapia  and 
Buyukdere.  The  English,  French,  Russian,  Austrian  and  other 
flags  were  flying  over  half  a  dozen  of  the  most  desirable  residences 
es  I  have  seen  since  Italy. 

We  soon  pulled  the  remaining  mile  or  two,  and  our  spent 
caikjees  drew  breath,  and  lay  on  their  oars  in  the  Black  Sea 
The  waves  were  breaking  on  the  "  blue  Symplegades,"  a  mile  on 
our  left,  and,  before  us,  toward  the  Cimmerian,  Bosphorus,  and, 
south,  toward  Colchis  and  Trebizond,  spread  one  broad,  blue 
waste  of  waters,  apparently  as  limitless  as  the  ocean.  The 
Black  Sea  is  particularly  Hue. 

We  turned  our  prow  to  the  west,  and  I  sighed  to  remember 
that  I  had  reached  my  farthest  step  into  the  east.  Henceforth 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  293 

I  shall  be  on  the  return.  I  sent  a  long  look  over  the  waters  to 
the  bright  lands  beyond,  so  famed  in  history  and  fiction,  and 
wishing  for  even  a  metamorphosis  into  the  poor  sea-bird  flyiug 
above  us  (whose  travelling  expenses  Nature  pays),  I  lay  back  in 
the  boat  with  a  "  change  in  the  spirit  of  my  dream." 

We  stopped  on  the  Anatolian  shore  to  visit  the  ruins  of  a  fine 
old  Genoese  castle,  which  looks  over  the  Black  Sea,  and  after  a 
lunch  upon  grapes  and  coffee,  at  a  small  village  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  on  which  it  stands,  we  embarked  and  followed  our  compan 
ions.  Running  down  with  the  current  to  Buyukdere,  we  landed 
and  walked  along  the  thronged  and  beautiful  shore  to  Terapia, 
meeting  hundreds  of  fair  Armenians  and  Greeks  (all  beautiful,  it 
seemed  to  me),  icsuiug  forth  for  their  evening  promenade,  and, 
with  a  call  of  ceremony  on  the  English  ambassador,  for  whom  I 
had  letters,  we  again  took  to  the  caique,  and  fled  down  with  the 
current  like  a  bird.  Oh,  what  a  sunset  was  there  ! 

We  were  to  dine  and  pass  the  night  at  the  country-house  of 
an  English  gentleman  at  Bebec,  a  secluded  and  lovely  village,  six 
or  eight  miles  from  Constantinople.  We  reached  the  landing  as 
the  stars  began  to  glimmer,  and,  after  one  of  the  most  agreeable 
and  hospitable  entertainments  I  remember  to  have  shared,  we 
took  an  early  breakfast  with  our  noble  host,  and  returned  to  the 
ship.  I  could  wish  my  friends  no  brighter  passage  in  their  lives 
than  such  an  excursion  as  mine  to  the  Black  Sea. 


LETTER    XXXV, 

The  Golden  Horn  and  its  Scenery— The  Sultan's  Wives  and  Arabians— The  Valley  of 
Sweet  Waters— Beauty  of  the  Turkish  Minarets— The  Mosque  of  Sulymanye— Mus 
sulmans  at  their  Devotions— The  Muezzin— The  Bazar  of  the  Opium-eaters— The  Mad 
House  of  Constantinople,  and  Description  of  its  Inmates — Their  Wretched  Treatment 
— The  Hippodrome  and  the  Mosque  of  Sultan  Achmet — The  Janizaries — Eeflections  or> 
the  Past,  the  Present,  and  the  Future. 

THE  "  Golden  Horn"  is  a  curved  arm  of  the  sea,  the  broadest 
extremity  meeting  the  Bosphorus  and  forming  the  harbor  of  Con 
stantinople,  and  the  other  tapering  away  till  it  is  lost  in  the 
"  Valley  of  Sweet  Waters."  It  curls  through  the  midst  of  the 
"  seven-hilled"  city,  and  you  cross  it  whenever  you  have  an 
errand  in  old  Stamboul.  Its  hundreds  of  shooting  caiques,  its 
forests  of  merchantmen  and  men-of-war,  its  noise  and  its  confu 
sion,  are  exchanged  in  scarce  ten  minutes  of  swift  pulling  for  the 
breathless  and  Eden-like  solitude  of  a  valley  that  has  not  its 
parallel,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  between  the  Mississippi  and  the 
Caspian.  It  is  called  in  Turkish  khyat-khana.  Opening  with  a 
gentle  curve  from  the  Golden  Horn,  it  winds  away  into  the  hills 
toward  Belgrade,  its  long  and  even  hollow,  thridded  by  a  lively 
stream,  and  carpeted  by  a  broad  belt  of  unbroken  green  sward 
swelling  up  to  the  enclosing  hills,  with  a  grass  so  verdant  and 
silken  that  it  seems  the  very  floor  of  faery.  In  the  midst  of  its 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.         295 


longest  stretch  to  the  eye  (perhaps  two  miles  of  level  meadow) 
stands  a  beautiful  serai  of  the  sultan's,  unfenced  and  open,  as  if 
it  had  sprung  from  the  lap  of  the  green  meadow  like  a  lily.  The 
stream  runs  by  its  door,  and  over  a  mimic  fall  whose  lip  is  of 
scolloped  marble,  is  built  an  oriental  kiosk,  all  carving  and  gold, 
that  is  only  too  delicate  and  fantastical  for  reality.  • 

Here,  with  the  first  grass  of  spring,  the  sultan  sends  his  fine- 
footed  Arabians  to  pasture ;  and  here  come  the  ladies  of  his 
harem  (chosen,  women  and  horses,  for  much  the  same  class  of 
qualities^),  and  in  the  long  summer  afternoons,  with  mounted 
eunuchs  on  the  hills  around,  forbidding  on  pain  of  death,  all 
approach  to  the  sacred  retreat,  they  venture  to  drop  their  jealous 
veils  and  ramble  about  in  their  unsunned  beauty. 

After  a  gallop  of  three  or  four  miles  over  the  broad  waste 
table  plains,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Constantinople,  we  checked 
our  horses  suddenly  on  the  brow  of  a  precipitous  descent,  with 
this  scene  of  beauty  spread  out  before  us.  I  had*  not  yet 
approached  it  by  water,  and  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  the  earth  had 
burst  open  at  my  feet,  and  revealed  some  realm  of  enchantment. 
Behind  me,  and  away  beyond  the  valley  to  the  very  horizon,  I 
could  see  only  a  trackless  heath,  brown  and  treeless,  while  a 
hundred  feet  below  lay  a  strip  of  very  Paradise,  blooming  in  all 
the  verdure  and  heavenly  freshness  of  spring.  We  descended 
slowly,  and  crossing  a  bridge  half  hidden  by  willows,  rode  in  upon 
the  elastic  green  sward  (for  myself)  with  half  a  feeling  of  profa 
nation.  There  were  no  eunuchs  upon  the  hills,  however,  and  our 
spirited  Turkish  horses  threw  their  wild  heads  into  the  air,  and 
we  flew  over  the  verdant  turf  like  a  troop  of  Delhis,  the  sound 
of  the  hoofs  on  the  yielding  carpet  scarcely  audible.  The  fair 
palace  in  the  centre  of  this  domain  of  loveliness  was  closed,  and 


296  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


it  was  only  after  we  had  walked  around  it  that  we  observed  a 
small  tent  of  the  prophet's  green  couched  in  a  small  dell  on  the 
hill-side,  and  containing  probably  the  guard  of  its  imperial 
master. 

We  mounted  again  and  rode  up  the  valley  for  two  or  three 
miles,  following  the  same  level  and  verdant  curve,  the  soft  carpet 
broken  only  by  the  silver  thread  of  the  Barbyses,  loitering 
through  it  on  its  way  to  the  sea.  A  herd  of  buffaloes,  tended  by 
a  Bulgarian  boy,  stretched  on  his  back  in  the  sunshine,  and  a 
small  caravan  of  camels  bringing  wood  from  the  hills,  and  keep 
ing  to  the  soft  valley  as  a  relief  to  their  spongy  feet,  were  the 
only  animated  portions  of  the  landscape.  I  think  I  shall  never 
form  to  my  mind  another  picture  of  romantic  rural  beauty  (an 
employment  of  the  imagination  I  am  much  given  to  when  out  of 
humor  with  the  world)  that  will  not  resemble  the  "  Valley  of 
Sweet  Waters" — the  khyat-khana  of  Constantinople.  "  Poor 
Slingsby"" never  was  here.* 

*  Irving  says,  in  one  of  his  most  exquisite  passages — u  He  who  has  sal 
lied  forth  into  the  world  like  poor  Slingsby,  full  of  sunny  anticipations,  finds 
too  soon  how  different  the  distant  scene  becomes  when  visited.  The  smooth 
place  roughens  as  he  approaches ;  the  wild  place  becomes  tame  and  barren ; 
the  fairy  teints  that  beguiled  him  on,  still  fly  to  the  distant  hill,  or  gather 
upon  the  land  he  has  left  behind,  and  every  part  of  the  landscape  is  greener 
than  the  spot  he  stands  on."  Full  of  merit  and  beautiful  expression  as  this 
is,  I.  for  one,  have  not  found  it  true.  Bright  as  I  had  imagined  the  much- 
sung  lands  beyond  the  water,  I  have  found  many  a  scene  in  Italy  and  the 
east  that  has  more  than  answered  the  craving  for  beauty  in  my  heart.  Val 
d'Arno,  Vallombrosa,  Venice,  Terni,  Tivoli,  Albano,  the  Isles  of  Greece,  the 
Bosphorus,  and  the  matchless  valley  I  have  described,  have,  with  a  hundred 
other  spots  less  famous,  far  outgone  in  their  exquisite  reality,  even  the 
brightest  of  my  anticipations.  The  passage  is  not  necessarily  limited  in  its 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  297 


The  lofty  mosque  of  Sulmanye,  the  bazars  of  the  opium- 
eaters,  and  the  Timar-hane,  or  mad-house  of  Constantinople,  are 
all  upon  one  square  in  the  highest  part  of  the  city.  "VVe  entered 
the  vast  court  of  the  mosque  from  a  narrow  and  filthy  street,  and 
the  impression  of  its  towering  plane-trees  and  noble  area,  and 
of  the  strange,  but  grand  and  costly  pile  in  its  centre,  was  almost 
devotional.  An  inner  court,  enclosed  by  a  kind  of  romanesque 
wall,  contained  a  sacred  marble  fountain  of  light  and  airy  archi 
tecture,  and  the  portico  facing  this  was  sustained  by  some  of 
those  splendid  and  gigantic  columns  of  porphyry  and  jasper,  the 
spoils  of  the  churches  of  Asia  Minor. * 

I  think  the  most  beautiful  spire  that  rises  into  the  sky  is  the 
Turkish  minaret.  If  I  may  illustrate  an  object  of  such  magni 
tude  by  so  trifling  a  comparison,  it  is  exactly  the  shape  and  pro 
portions  of  an  ever-pointed  pencil-case — the  silver  bands  answer 
ing  to  the  encircling  galleries,  one  above  another,  from  which  the 
muezzin  calls  out  the  hour  of  prayer.  The  minaret  is  painted 
white,  the  galleries  are  fantastically  carved,  and  rising  to  the 
height  of  the  highest  steeples  in  our  country  (four  and  sometimes 
six  to  a  single  mosque),  these  slender  and  pointed  fingers  of 
devotion  seem  to  enter  the  very  sky.  Remembering,  dear 
reader,  that  there  are  two  hundred  and  twenty  mosques  and  three 
hundred  chapels  in  Constantinople,  raising,  perhaps,  in  all,  a  thou 
sand  minarets  to  heaven,  you  may  get  some  idea  of  the  magnifi 
cence  of  this  seven-hilled  capital  of  the  east. 

meaning  to  scenery,  however,  and  of  moral  disappointment  it  is  beautifully 
true.  There  is  many  a  "  poor  Slingsby,"  the  fate  of  whose  sunny  anticipa 
tions  of  life  it  describes  but  too  faithfully. 

*  Sulymanye  was  built  of  the  ruins  of  the  church,  St.  Euphemia,  at 
Ckalcedonia. 


298          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN 


It  was  near  the  hour  of  prayer,  and  the  devout  mussulmans 
were  thronging  into  the  court  of  Sulymanye  by  every  gate. 
Passing  the  noble  doors,  with  their  strangely-carved  arches  of 
arabesque,  which  invite  all  to  enter  but  the  profaning  foot  of  the 
Christian,  the  turbaned  crowd  repaired  first  to  the  fountains. 
From  the  walls  of  every  mosque,  by  small  conduits  pouring  into 
a  marble  basin,  flow  streams  of  pure  water  for  the  religious  ablu 
tions  of  the  faithful.  The  mussulman  approaches,  throws  off  his 
flowing  robe,  steps  out  of  his  yellow  slippers,  and  unwinds  his 
volumnious  turban  with  devout  deliberateness.  A  small  marble 
step,  worn  hollow  with  pious  use,  supports  his  foot  while  he 
washes  from  the  knee  downward.  His  hands  and  arms,  with  the 
flowing  sleeve  of  his  silk  shirt  rolled  to  the  shoulder,  receive  the 
same  lavation,  and  then,  washing  his  face,  he  repeats  a  brief 
prayer,  resumes  all  but  his  slippers,  and  enters  the  mosque, 
barefooted.  The  mihrab  (or  niche  indicating  the  side  toward  the 
tomb  of  the  prophet) ,  fixes  his  eye.  He  folds  his  hands  together, 
prays  a  moment  standing,  prostrates  himself  flat  on  his  face 
toward  the  hallowed  quarter,  rises  upon  his  knees,  and  continues 
praying  and  prostrating  himself  for  perhaps  half  an  hour.  And 
all  this  process  is  required  by  the  mufti,  and  performed  by  every 
good  mussulman  Jive  times  a  day  !  A  rigid  adherence  to  it  is 
almost  universal  among  the  Turks.  In  what  an  odor  of  sanctity 
would  a  Christian  live,  who  should  make  himself  thus  "  familiar 
with  heaven  !" 

As  the  muezzin  from  the  minaret  was  shouting  his  last  "  mash- 
allah  !"  with  a  voice  like  a  man  calling  out  from  the  clouds,  we 
left  the  court  of  the  majestic  mosque,  with  Byron's  reflection  :— 

u  Alas  !  man  makes  that  great,  which  makes  him  little !'? 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  299 

and,  having  delivered  ourselves  of  this  scrap  of  poetical  philoso 
phy,  we  crossed  over  the  square  to  the  opium-eaters. 

A  long  row  of  half-ruined  buildings,  of  a  single  story,  with 
porticoes  in  front,  and  the  broad,  raised  platform  beneath,  on 
which  the  Turks  sit  cross-legged  at  public  places,  is  the  scene  of 
what  was  once  a  peculiarly  oriental  spectacle.  The  mufti  has 
of  late  years  denounced  the  use  of  opium,  and  the  devotees  to 
its  sublime  intoxication  have  either  conquered  the  habit,  or  what 
is  more  probable,  indulge  it  in  more  secret  places.  The  shops 
are  partly  ruinous,  and  those  that  remain  in  order  are  used  as 
cafes ,  in  which,  however,  it  is  said  that  the  dangerous  drug  may 
still  be  procured.  My  companion  inquired  of  a  good-humored- 
looking  caffejee  whether  there  was  any  place  at  which  a  confirmed 
opium-eater  could  be  seen  under  its  influence.  He  said  there 
was  an  old  Turk,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  frequenting  his  shop, 
and,  if  we  could  wait  an  hour  or  two,  we  might  see  him  in  the 
highest  state  of  intoxication.  We  had  no  time  to  spare,  if  the 
object  had  been  worth  our  while. 

And  here,  thought  I,  as  we  sat  down  and  took  a  cup  of  coffee 
in  the  half-ruined  cafe,  have  descended  upon  the  delirious  brains 
of  these  noble  drunkards,  the  visions  of  Paradise  so  glowingly 
described  in  books — visions,  it  is  said,  as  far  exceeding  the  poor 
invention  of  the  poet,  as  the  houris  of  the  prophet  exceed  tlio 
fair  damsels  of  this  world.  Here  men,  otherwise  in  their  senses, 
have  believed  themselves  emperors,  warriors,  poets  ;  theso 
wretched  walls  and  bending  roof  the  fair  proportions  of  a 
palace  ;  this  gray  old  caffejce  a  Hylas  or  a  Ganymede.  Here 
men  have  come  to  cast  off,  for  an  hour,  the  dull  thraldom  of  the 
body  ;  to  soar  into  the  glorious  world  of  fancy  at  a  penalty  of  a 
thousand  times  the  proportion  of  real  misery  ;  to  sacrifice  the 


300          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN 


invaluable  energies  of  health,  and  deliberately  poison  the  very 
fountain  of  life,  for  a  few  brief  moments  of  magnificent  and 
phrensied  blessedness.  »It  is  powerfully  described  in  the  "  Opium 
Eater"  of  De  Quincy. 

At  the  extremity  of  this  line  of  buildings,  by  a  natural  prox 
imity,  stands  the  Timar-han6.  We  passed  the  porter  at  the  gate 
without  question,  and  entered  a  large  quadrangle,  surrounded 
with  the  grated  windows  of  cells  on  the  ground-floor.  In  every 
window  was  chained  a  maniac.  The  doors  of  the  cells  were  all 
open,  and,  descending  by  a  step  upon  the  low  stone  floor  of  the 
first,  we  found  ourselves  in  the  presence  of  four  men  chained  to 
rings,  in  the  four  corners,  by  massy  iron  collars.  The  man  in 
the  window  sat  crouched  together,  like  a  person  benumbed  (the 
day  was  raw  and  cold  as  December),  the  heavy  chain  of  his 
collar  hanging  on  his  naked  breast,  and  his  shoulders  imperfectly 
covered  with  a  narrow  blanket.  His  eyes  were  large  and  fierce, 
and  his  mouth  was  fixed  in  an  expression  of  indignant  sullenness. 
My  companion  asked  him  if  he  were  ill.  He  said  he  should  be 
well,  if  he  were -out — that  he  was  brought  there  in  a  fit  of  intox 
ication  two  years  ago,  and  was  no  more  crazy  than  his  keeper. 
Poor  fellow  !  It  might  easily  be  true  !  He  lifted  his  heavy 
collar  from  his  neck  as  he  spoke,  and  it  was  not  difficult  to  believe 
that  misery  like  his  for  two  long  years  would,  of  itself,  destroy 
reason.  There  was  a  better  dressed  man  in  the  opposite  comer, 
who  informed  us,  in  a  gentlemanly  voice,  that  he  had  been  a 
captain  in  the  sultan's  army,  and  was  brought  there  in  the 
delirium  of  a  fever.  He  was  at  a  loss  to  know,  he  said,  why  ho 
was  imprisoned  still. 

We  passed  on  to  a  poor,  half-naked  wretch  in  the  last  stage  of 
illness  and  idiocy,    who  sat  chattering  to   himself,  and,  though 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  3Q1 


trembling  with  the  cold,  interrupted  his  monologue  continually 
with  fits  of  the  wildest  laughter.  Farther  on  sat  a  young  man 
of  a  face  so  full  of  intellectual  beauty,  an  eye  so  large  and  mild, 
a  mouth  of  such  mingled  sadness  and  sweetness,  and  a  forehead 
so  broad,  and  marked  so  nobly,  that  we  stood,  all  of  us,  struck 
with  a  simultaneous  feeling  of  pity  and  surprise.  A  countenance 
more  beaming  with  all  that  is  admirable  in  human  nature,  I  have 
never  seen,  even  in  painting.  He  might  have  sat  to  Da  Vinci  for 
the  "  beloved  apostle."  He  had  tied  the  heavy  chain  by  a  shred 
to  a  round  of  the  grating,  to  keep  its  weight  from  his  neck,  and 
seemed  calm  and  resigned,  with  all  his  sadness.  My  friend  spoke 
to  him,  but  he  answered  obscurely,  and,  seeing  that  our  gaze 
disturbed  him,  we  passed  unwillingly  on.  Oh,  what  room  there 
is  in  the  world  for  pity  !  If  that  poor  prisoner  be  not  a  maniac 
(as  he  may  not  be),  and,  if  nature  has  not  falsified  in  the  struc 
ture  of  his  mind  the  superior  impress  on  his  features,  what  Pro 
metheus-like  agony  has  he  suffered  !  The  guiltiest  felon  is  better 
cared  for.  And  allowing  his  mind  to  be  a  wreck,  and  allowing 
the  hundred  human  minds,  in  the  same  cheerless  prison,  to  be 
certainly  iu  ruins,  oh  what  have  they  done  to  be  weighed  down 
with  iron  on  their  necks,  and  exposed,  like  caged  beasts,  shiver 
ing  and  naked,  to  the  eye  of  pitiless  curiosity  ?  I  have  visited 
lunatic  asylums  in  France,  Italy,  Sicily,  and  Germany,  but, 
culpably  neglected  as  most  of  them  are,  I  have  seen  nothing 
•comparable  to  this  in  horror. 

"  Is  he  never  unchained  ?"  we  asked.  "  Never  !"  And  yet, 
from  the  ring  to  the  iron  collar,  there  was  just  chain  enough  to 
permit  him  to  stand  upright !  There  were  no  vessels  near  them, 
not  even  a  pitcher  of  water.  Their  dens  were  cleansed  and  the 
poor  sufferers  fed  at  appointed  hours,  and,  come  wind  or  rain, 


302          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


there  was  neither  shutter  nor  glass  to  defend  them  from  the  in 
clemency  of  the  weather 

We  entered  most  of  the  rooms,  and  found  in  all  the  same  damp 
ness,  filth,  and  misery.  One  poor  wretch  had  been  chained  to 
the  same  spot  for  twenty  years.  The  keeper  said  he  never  slept. 
He  talked  all  the  night  long.  Sometimes  at  mid-day  his  voice 
would  cease,  and  his  head  nod  for  an  instant,  and  then  with  a 
start  as  if  he  feared  to  be  silent,  he  raved  on  with  the  same  inco 
herent  rapidity.  He  had  been  a  dervish.  His  collar  and  chain 
were  bound  with  rags,  and  a  tattered  coat  was  fastened  up  on  the 
inside  of  the  window,  forming  a  small  recess  in  which  he  sat,  be 
tween  the  room  and  the  grating.  He  was  emaciated  to  the  last 
degree.  His  beard  was  tangled  and  filthy,  his  nails  curled  over 
the  ends  of  his  fingers,  and  his  appearance,  save  only  an  eye  of 
the  keenest  lustre,  that  of  a  wild  beast. 

In  the  last  room  we  entered,  we  found  a  good-looking  young 
man,  well-dressed,  healthy,  composed,  and  having  every  appear 
ance  of  a  person  in  the  soundest  state  of  mind  and  body.  He 
saluted  us  courteously,  and  told  my  friend  that  he  was  a  renegade 
Greek.  He  had  turned  mussulman  a  year  or  two  ago,  had  lost 
his  reason,  and  so  was  brought  here.  He  talked  of  it  quite  as  a 
thing  of  course,  and  seemed  to  be  entirely  satisfied  that  the  best 
had  been  done  for  him.  One  of  the  party  took  hold  of  his  chain. 
He  winced  as  the  collar  stirred  on  his  neck,  and  said  the  lock  was 
on  the  outside  of  the  window  (which  was  true),  and  that  the  boys 
came  in  and  tormented  him  by  pulling  it  sometimes.  "  There 
they  are,"  he  said,  pointing  to  two  or  three  children  who  had  just 
entered  the  court,  and  were  running  round  from  one  prisoner  to 
another.  We  bade  him  good  morning,  and  he  laid  his  hand  to 
his  breast  and  bowed  with  a  smile.  As  we  passed  toward  the 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  303 


gate,  the  chattering  lunatic  on  the  opposite  side  screamed  after 
us,  the  old  dervish  laid  his  skinny  hands  on  the  bars  of  his  win 
dow,  and  talked  louder  and  faster,  and  the  children,  approaching 
close  to  the  poor  creatures,  laughed  with  delight  at  their  excite 
ment. 

It  was  a  relief  to  escape  the  common  sights  and  sounds  of  the 
city.  We  walked  on  to  the  Hippodrome.  The  only  remaining 
beauty  of  this  famous  square  is  the  unrivalled  mosque  of  Sultan 
Achmet,  which,  though  inferior  in  size  to  the  renowned  Santa 
Sophia,  is  superior  in  elegance  both  within  and  without.  Its 
six  slender  and  towering  minarets  are  the  handsomest  in  Constan 
tinople.  The  wondrous  obelisk  in  the  centre  of  the  square, 
remains  perfect  as  in  the  time  of  the  Christian  emperors,  but  the 
brazen  tripod  is  gone  from  the  twisted  column,  and  the  serpent- 
like  pillar  itself  is  leaning  over  with  its  brazen  folds  to  its  fall. 

Here  stood  the  barracks  of  the  powerful  Janisaries,  and  from 
the  side  of  Sultan  Achmet  the  cannon  were  levelled  upon  them, 
as  they  lushed  from  the  conflagration  within.  And  here,  when 
Constantinople  was  the  "  second  Rome,"  were  witnessed  the 
triumphal  processions  of  Christian  conquest,  the  march  of  the 
crusaders,  bound  for  Palestine,  and  the  civil  tumults  which  Jus 
tinian,  walking  among  the  people  with  the  gospel  in  his  hand, 
tried  in  vain  to  allay  ere  they  burnt  the  great  edifice  built  of  the 
ruins  of  the  temple  of  Solomon.  And  around  this  now  neglected 
area,  the  captive  Gelimer  followed  in  chains  the  chariot  of  the 
conquering  Belisarius,  repeating  the  words  of  Solomon,  "  Vanity 
of  vanities  !  all  is  vanity  !"  while  the  conquerer  himself,  throwing 
aside  his  crown,  prostrated  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  beautiful 
Theodora,  raised  from  a  Roman  actress  to  be  the  Christian  empress 
of  the  east.  From  any  elevated  point  of  the  city,  you  may  still 


304       SUMMER   CRUISE    IN   THE    MEDITERRANEAN. 

see  the  ruins  of  the  palace  of  the  renowned  warrior,  and  read 
yourself  a  lesson  on  human  vicissitudes,  remembering  the  school- 
book  story  of  "  an  obolon  for  Belisarius  !" 

The  Hippodrome  was,  until  late  years,  the  constant  scene  of 
the  games  of  the  jereed.  With  the  destruction  of  the  Janizaries, 
and  the  introduction  of  European  tactics,  this  graceful  exercise 
has  gone  out  of  fashion.  The  east  is  fast  losing  its  picturesque- 
ness.  Dress,  habits,  character,  everything  seems  to  be  under 
going  a  gradual  change,  and  when,  as  the  Turks  themselves 
predict,  the  moslem  is  driven  into  Asia,  this  splendid  capital 
will  become  another  Paris,  and  with  the  improvements  in  travel, 
a  summer  in  Constantinople  will  be  as  little  thought  of  as  a  tour 
in  Italy.  Politicians  in  this  part  of  the  world  predict  such  a 
change  as  about  to  arrive. 


LETTER   XXXVI, 

Sultan  Mahmoud  at  his  Devotions— Comparative  Splendor  of  Papal,  Austrian,  and  Turk 
ish  Equipages— The  Sultan's  Barge  or  Caique— Description  of  the  Sultan— Visit  to  a 
Turkish  Lancasterian  School— The  Dancing  Dervishes— Visit  from  the  Sultan's  Cabinet 
—The  Seraskier  and  the  Capitan  Pacha— Humble  Origin  of  Turkish  Dignitaries. 

I  HAD  slept  on  shore,  and  it  was  rather  late  before  I  remem 
bered  that  it  was  Friday  (the  moslem  Sunday),  and  that  Sultan 
Mahmoud  was  to  go  in  state  to  mosque  at  twelve.  I  hurried 
down  the  precipitous  street  of  Pera,  and,  as  usual,  escaping 
barely  with  my  life  from  the  Christian-hating  dogs  of  Tophana, 
embarked  in  a  caique,  and  made  all  speed  up  the  Bosphorus. 
There  is  no  word  in  Turkish  for  faster,  but  I  was  urging  on  my 
caikjees  by  a  wave  of  the  hand  and  the  sight  of  a  bish/ik  (about  the 
value  of  a  quarter  of  a  dollar),  when  suddenly  a  broadside  was 
fired  from  the  three-decker,  Mahmoudier,  the  largest  ship  in  the 
world,  and  to  the  rigging  of  every  man-of-war  in  the  fleet  through 
which  I  was  passing,  mounted,  simultaneously,  hundreds  of  blood- 
red  flags,  filling  the  air  about  us  like  a  shower  of  tulips  and  roses. 
Imagine  twenty  ships-of-war,  with  yards  manned,  and  scarce  a 
line  in  their  rigging  to  be  seen  for  the  flaunting  of  colors !  The 
jar  of  the  guns,  thundering  in  every  direction  close  over  us,  al 
most  lifted  our  light  boat  out  of  the  water,  and  the  smoke  ren- 


306          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


dered  our  pilotage  between  the  ships  and  among  their  extending 
cables  rather  doubtful.  The  white  cloud  lifted  after  a  few 
minutes,  and,  with  the  last  gun,  down  went  the  flags  altogether, 
announcing  that  the  "  Brother  of  the  Sun"  had  left  his  palace. 

He  had  but  crossed  to  the  mosque  of  the  small  village  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  was  already  at  his  prayers 
when  I  arrived.  His  body-guard  was  drawn  up  before  the  door, 
in  their  villanous  European  dress,  and,  as  their  arms  were 
stacked,  I  presumed  it  would  be  some  time  before  the  sultan  reap 
peared,  and  improved  the  interval  in  examining  thehandja-bashes, 
or  state-caiques,  lying  at  the  landing.  I  have  arrived  at  my 
present  notions  of  equipage  by  three  degrees.  The  pope's  car 
riages  at  Rome,  rather  astonished  me.  The  emperor  of  Austria's 
sleighs  diminished  the  pope  in  my  admiration,  and  the  sultan's 
caiques,  in  their  turn,  "  pale  the  fires"  of  the  emperor  of  Austria. 
The  handja-bash  is  built  something  like  the  ancient  galley,  very 
high  at  the  prow  and  stern,  carries  some  fifty  oars,  and  has  a 
roof  over  her  poop,  supported  by  four  columns,  and  loaded  with 
the  most  sumptuous  ornaments,  the  whole  gilt  brilliantly.  The 
prow  is  curved  over,  and  wreathed  into  every  possible  device  that 
would  not  affect  the  necessary  lines  of  the  model ;  her  crew  are 
dressed  in  the  beautiful  costume  of  the  country,  rich  and  flowing, 
and  with  the  costly  and  bright-colored  carpets  hanging  over  her 
side,  and  the  flashing  of  the  sun  on  her  ornaments  of  gold,  she  is 
really  the  most  splendid  object  of  state  equipage  (if  I  may  be 
allowed  the  misnomer)  in  the  world. 

I  was  still  examining  the  principal  barge,  when  the  troops 
stood  to  their  arms,  and  preparation  was  made  for  the  passing  out 
of  the  sultan.  Thirty  or  forty  of  his  highest  military  officers 
formed  themselves  into  two  lines  from  the  door  of  the  mosque  to 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  307 


the  landing,  and  behind  them  were  drawn  up  single  files  of  sol 
diers.  I  took  advantage  of  the  respect  paid  to  the  rank  of  Com 
modore  Patterson,  and  obtained  an  excellent  position,  with  him, 
at  the  side  of  the  caique.  First  issued  from  the  door  two 
Georgian  slaves.,  bearing  censers,  from  which  they  waved  the 
smoke  on  either  side,  and  the  sultan  immediately  followed,  sup 
ported  by  the  capitan-pacha,  the  seraskier,  and  Haleil  Pacha 
(who  is  to  marry  the  Sultana  Esmeh).  He  walked  slowly  down 
to  the  landing,  smiling  and  talking  gayly  with  the  seraskier,  and, 
bowing  to  the  commodore  in  passing,  stepped  into  his  barge, 
seated  himself  on  a  raised  sofa,  while  his  attendants  coiled  their 
legs  on  the  carpet  below,  and  turned  his  prow  across  the  Bos- 
phorus. 

1  have,  perhaps,  never  set  my  eyes  on  a  handsomer  man  than 
Sultan  Mahmoud.  His  figure  is  tall,  straight,  and  manly,  his  air 
unembarrassed  arid  dignified,  and  his  step  indicative  of  the  well- 
known  firmness  of  his  character.  A  suporb  beard  of  j  ;tty  black 
ness,  with  a  curling  musta-che,  conceals  all  the  lower  part  of  his 
face  ;  the  decided  and  bold  lines  of  his  mouth  just  marking  them 
selves  when  he  speaks.  It  is  said  he  both  paints  and  dies  his 
beard,  but  a  manlier  brown  upon  a  cheek,  or  a  richer  gloss  upon 
a  beard,  I  never  saw.  J3is  eye  is  described  by  writers  as  having 
a  doomed  darkness  of  expression,  and  it  is  certainly  one  that  would 
well  become  a  chief  of  bandits — large,  steady,  and  overhung  with 
an  eyebrow  like  a  thunder  cloud.  He  looks  the  monarch.  The 
child  of  a  seraglio  (where  mothers  are  chosen  for  beauty  alone) 
could  scarce  escape  being  handsome.  The  blood  of  Circassian 
upon  Circassian  is  in  his  veins,  and  the  wonder  is,  not  that  he  is 
the  handsomest  man  in  his  empire,  but  that  he  is  not  the  greatest 
sl.ivo.  Our  u  mother's  humor,"  they  say,  predominates  in  our 


308         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


mixtures.  Sultan  Mahmoud,  however,  was  marked  by  nature  for 
a  throne. 

I  accompanied  Mr.  Goodell  and  Mr.  Dwight,  American  mis 
sionaries  at  Constantinople,  to  visit  a  Lancasteriau  school  estab 
lished  with  their  assistance  in  the  Turkish  barracks.  The  build 
ing  stands  on  the  ascent  of  one  of  the  lovely  valleys  that  open 
into  the  Bosphorus,  some  three  miles  from  the  city,  on  the  Euro 
pean  side.  We  were  received  by  the  colonel  of  the  regiment,  a 
young  man  of  fine  appearance,  with  the  diamond  crescent  and 
star  glittering  on  the  breast  of  his  military  frock,  and  after  the 
inevitable  compliment  of  pipes  and  coffee,  the  drum  was  beat  and 
the  soldiers  called  to  school. 

The  sultan  has  an  army  of  boys.  Nine-tenths  of  those  I  have 
seen  are  under  twenty.  They  marched  in,  in  single  file,  and 
facing  about,  held  up  their  hands  at  the  word  of  command,  while 
a  ^ubalteiu  looked  that  each  bad  performed  the  morning  ablution. 
They  were  healthy-looking  lads,  mostly  from  the  interior  pro 
vinces,  whence  they  are  driven  down  like  cattle  to  fill  the  ranks 
of  their  sovereign.  Duller-looking  subjects  for  an  idea  it  has  not 
been  my  fortune  to  see. 

The  Turkish  alphabet  hung  over  the  teacher's  desk  (the 
colonel  is  the  schoolmaster,  and  takes  the  greatest  interest  in  his 
occupation),  and  the  front  seats  are  faced  with  a  long  box  cov 
ered  with  sand,  in  which  the  beginners  write  with  their  fingers. 
It  is  fitted  with  a  slide  that  erases  the  clumsy  initiation  whwn 
completed,  and  seemed  to  me  an  ingenious  economy  of  ink  and 
paper.  (I  would  suggest  to  the  minds  of  the  benevolent,  a 
school  on  the  same  principle  for  beginners  in  poetry.  It  would 
save  the  critics  much  murder,  and  tend  to  the  suppression  of  sui 
cide.)  The  classes  having  filed  into  their  seats,  the  school  opened 


ON    BOARD    AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  309 


with  a  prayer  by  the  colonel.  The  higher  benches  then  com 
menced  writing,  on  slates  and  paper,  sentences  dictated  from  the 
desk,  and  I  was  somewhat  surprised  at  the  neatness  and  beauty 
of  the  characters. 

We  passed  afterward  into  another  room  where  arithmetic  and 
geography  were  taught,  and  then  mounted  to  an  apartment  on 
the  second  story  occupied  by  students  in  military  drawing.  The 
proficiency  of  all  was  most  creditable,  considering  the  brief  period 
during  which  the  schools  have  been  in  operation — something  less 
than  a  year.  Prejudiced  as  the  Turks  are  against  European  in 
novation,  this  advanced  step  toward  improvement  tells  well.  Our 
estimable  and  useful  missionaries  appear,  from  the  respect  every 
where  shown  them,  to  be  in  high  esteem,  and  with  the  sultan's 
energetic  disposition  for  reform,  they  hope  everything  in  the  way 
of  an  enlightened  change  in  the  moral  condition  of  the  people. 


We  went  to  the  chapel  of  the  dancing  dervishes.  It  is  a  beau 
tiful  marble  building,  with  a  court  yard  ornamented  with  a  small 
cemetery  shaded  with  cypresses,  and  a  fountain  enclosed  in  a 
handsome  edifice,  and  defended  by  gilt  gratings  from  the  street 
of  the  suburb  of  Pera,  in  which  it  stands.  They  dance  here 
twice  a  week.  We  arrived  before  the  hour,  and  were  detained 
at  the  door  by  a  soldier  on  guard,  who  would  not  permit  us  to 
enter  without  taking  off  our  boots — a  matter,  about  which,  be 
tween  straps  and  their  very  muddy  condition,  we  had  some  de 
bate.  The  dervishes  began  to  arrive  before  the  question  was 
settled,  and  one  of  them,  a  fine-looking  old  man,  inviting  us  to 
enter,  Mr.  H.  explained  the  difficulty.  "  Go  in,"  said  he,  "  go 


310         SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN 


in  !"  and  turning  to  the  more  scrupulous  mussulman  with  the 
musket,  as  he  pushed  us  within  the  door,  "  stupid  fellow !"  said 
he,  "if  you  had  been  less  obstinate,  they  would  have  given  you  a 
bakshish"  (Turkish  for  a  fee)-  He  should  have  said  less  religious 
— for  the  poor  fellow  looked  horror-struck  as  our  dirty  boots  pro 
faned  the  clean  white  Persian  matting  of  the  sacred  floor.  One 
would  think,  "  the  nearer  the  church  the  farther  from  God,"  were 
as  true  here  as  it  is  said  to  be  in  some  more  civilized  countries. 

It  was  a  pretty,  octagonal  interior,  with  a  gallery,  the  mihrdb 
or  niche  indicating  the  direction  of  the  prophet's  tomb,  standing 
obliquely  from  the  front  of  the  building.  Hundreds  of  small 
lamps  hung  in  the  area,  just  out  of  the  reach  of  the  dervishes'  tall 
caps,  and  all  around  between  the  gallery ;  a  part  of  the  floor  was 
raised,  matted,  and  divided  from  the  body  of  the  church  by  a 
balustrade.  It  would  have  made  an  exceedingly  pretty  ball 
room. 

None  but  the  dervishes  entered  within  the  paling,  and  they 
soon  began  to  enter,  each  advancing  first  toward  the  mihrab,  and 
going  through  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes'  prostrations  and  prayers. 
Their  dress  is  very  humble.  A  high,  white  felt  cap,  without  a 
rim,  like  a  sugar-loaf  enlarged  a  little  at  the  smaller  end,  protects 
the  head,  and  a  long  dress  of  dirt-colored  cloth,  reaching  quite  to 
the  heels  and  bound  at  the  waist  with  a  girdle,  completes  the  cos 
tume.  They  look  like  men  who  have  made  up  their  minds  to 
seem  religious,  and  though  said  to  be  a  set  of  very  good  fellows, 
they  have  a  Mawworm  expression  of  face  generally,  which  was 
very  repulsive.  I  must  except  the  chief  of  the  sect,  however, 
who  entered  when  all  the  rest  had  seated  themselves  on  the  floor, 
and  after  a  brief  genuflexion  or  two,  took  possession  of  a  rich 
Angora  carpet  placed  for  him  near  the  mihrab.  He  was  a  small 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  311 


old  man,  distinguished  in  his  dress  only  by  the  addition  of  a 
green  band  to  his  cap*  (the  sign  of  his  pilgrimage  to  Mecca)  and 
the  entire  absence  of  the  sanctimonious  look.  Still  he  was  seri 
ous,  and  there  was  no  mark  in  his  clear,  intelligent  eye  and  amia 
ble  features,  of  any  hesitancy  or  want  of  sincerity  in  his  devotion. 
He  is  said  to  be  a  learned  man,  and  he  is  certainly  a  very  pre 
possessing  one,  though  he  would  be  taken  up  as  a  beggar  in  any 
city  in  the  United  States.  It  is  a  thing  one  learns  in  "  dangling 
about  the  world,"  by  the  way,  to  form  opinions  of  men  quite  in 
dependently  of  their  dress. 

After  sitting  a  while  in  quaker  meditation,  the  brotherhood 
rose  one  by  ono  (there  were  ten  of  them  I  think),  and  marched 
round  the  room  with  their  toes  turned  in,  to  the  music  of  a  drum 
and  a  Persian  flute,  played  invisibly  in  some  part  of  the  gallery. 
As  they  passed  the  carpet  of  the  cross-legged  chief,  they  twisted 
dexterously  and  made  three  salaams,  and  then  raising  their  arms, 
which  they  held  out  straight  during  the  whole  dance,  they  com 
menced  twirling  on  one  foot,  using  the  other  after  the  manner  of 
a  paddle  to  keep  up  the  motion.  I  forgot  to  mention  that  they 
laid  aside  their  outer  dresses  before  commencing  the  dance. 
They  remained  in  dirty  white  tunics  reaching  to  the  floor,  and 
very  full  at  the  bottom,  so  that  with  the  regular  motion  of  their 
whirl,  the  wind  blew  them  out  into  a  circle,  like  what  the  girls 
in  our  country  call  '•  making  cheeses."  They  twisted  with 
surprising  exactness  and  rapidity,  keeping  clear  of  each  other, 
and  maintaining  their  places  with  the  regularity  of  machines.  I 
have  seen  a  great  deal  of  waltzing,  but  I  think  the  dancing 
dervishes  for  precision  and  spirit,  might  give  a  lesson  even  to  the 
Germans. 

We  left  them  twisting.     They  had  been  going  for  half  an  hour. 


312          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

&,nd  it  began  to  look  very  like  perpetual  motion.  Unless  their 
brains  are  addled,  their  devotion,  during  this  dizzy  performance 
at  least,  must  be  quite  suspended.  A  man  who  could  think  of 
his  Maker,  while  revolving  so  fast  that  his  nose  is  indistinct, 
must  have  some  power  of  abstraction. 


The  frigate  was  visited  to-day  by  the  sultan's  cabinet.  The 
sera-skier  pacha  came  alongside  first,  in  his  state  caique,  and 
embraced  the  commodore  as  he  stepped  upon  the  deck,  with 
great  cordiality.  He  is  a  short,  fat  old  man,  with  a  snow-white 
beard,  and  so  bow-legged  as  to  be  quite  deformed.  He  wore  the 
red  Fez  cap  of  the  army,  with  a  long  blue  frock-coat,  the  collar 
so  tight  as  nearly  to  choke  him,  and  the  body  not  shaped  to  the 
figure,  but  made  to  fall  around  him  like  a  sack.  The  red, 
bloated  skin  of  his  neck  fell  over,  so  as  to  almost  cover  the  gold 
with  which  the  collar  was  embroidered.  He  was  formerly 
cnpitaa  pacha,  or  -admiral-in-chief  of  the  fleet,  and  thougli  a 
good-humored,  merry-looking  old  man,  has  shown  himself,  both 
in  his  former  and  present  capacity,  to  be  wily,  cold,  and  a 
butcher  in  cruelty.  He  possesses  unlimited  influence  over  the 
sultan,  and  though  nominally  subordinate  to  the  grand  vizier,  is 
really  the  second  if  not  the  first  person  in  the  empire  He  was 
originally  a  Georgian  slave. 

The  seraskier  was  still  talking  with  the  commodore  in  tho 
gang-way,  when  the  present  capikan  pacha  mounted  the  ladder, 
and  the  old  man,  who  is  understood  to  be  at  feud  with  his 
successor,  turned  abruptly  away  and  walked  aft.  The  capitan 
pacha  is  a  tall,  slender  man,  of  precisely  that  look  and  manner 
which  we  call  gentlemanly.  His  beard  grows  untrimmed  in  tho 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  313 


Turkish  fashion,  and  is  slightly  touched  with  gray.  His  eye  is 
anxious,  but  resolute,  and  he  looks  like  a  man  of  resource  and 
ability.  His  history  is  as  singular  as  that  of  most  other  great 
men  in  Turkey.  He  was  a  slave  of  Mohammed  A15,  the 
rebellious  pacha  of  Egypt.  Being  intrusted  by  his  master  with  a 
brig  and  cargo  for  Leghorn,  he  sold  vessel  and  lading,  lived  like 
a  gentleman  in  Italy  for  some  years  with  the  proceeds,  and  as  the 
best  security  against  the  retribution  of  his  old  master,  offered  his 
services  to  the  sultan,  with  whom  AH  was  just  commencing 
hostilities.  Naval  talent  was  in  request,  and  he  soon  arrived  at 
his  present  dignity.  He  is  said  to  be  the  only  officer  in  the  fleet 
who  knows  anything  of  his  profession. 

Ilaleil  Pacha  arrived  last.  The  sultan's  future  son-in-law  is  a 
man  of  perhaps  thirty-five.  He  is  light-complexioned,  stout, 
round-faced,  and  looks  like  a  respectable  grocer,  "  well  to  do  in 
the  world."  He  has  commanded  the  artillery  long  enough  to 
have  acquired  a  certain  air  of  ease  and  command,  and  carries  the 
promise  of  good  fortune  in  his  confident  features.  He  is  to  be 
inarried  almost  immediately.  He,  too,  was  a  Georgian,  sent  as  a 
present  to  the  sultan. 

The  three  dignitaries  made  the  rounds  of  the  ship  and  then 
entered  the  cabin,  where  the  pianoforte  (a  novelty  to  the 
rseraskier  and  Haliel  Pacha,  and  to  most  of  the  attendant  officers), 
and  the  commodore's  agreeable  society  and  champagne,  promised 
to  detain  them  the  remainder  of  the  day.  They  were  like 
children  with  a  holiday.  I  was  engaged  to  dine  on  shore,  and 
left  them  on  board. 

In  a  country  where  there  is  no  education  and  no  rank,  except 

In  the  possession  of  present  power,  it  is  not  surprising  that  men 

should  rise  from  the  lowest  class  to  the  highest  offices,  or  that 

14 


314         SUMMER  CRUISE   IN   THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


they  should  fill  those  offices  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  sultan. 
Yet  it  is  curious  to  hear  their  histories.  An  English  physician, 
who  is  frequently  called  into  the  seraglio,  and  whose  practice 
among  all  the  families  in  power  gives  him  the  best  means  of 
information,  has  entertained  me  not  a  little  with  these  secrets. 
I  shall  make  use  of  them  when  I  have  more  leisure,  merely 
mentioning  here,  in  connection  with  the  above  accounts,  that  the 
present  grand  vizier  was  a  boatman  on  the  Bosphorus,  and  the 
commander  of  the  sultan's  body-guard,  a  shoemaker !  The 
latter  still  employs  all  his  leisure  in  making  slippers,  which  he 
presents  to  the  sultan  and  his  friends,  not  at  all  ashamed  of  his 
former  vocation.  So  far,  indeed,  are  any  of  these  mushroom 
officers  from  blushing  at  their  origin,  that  it  is  common  to  prefix 
the  name  of  their  profession  to  the  title  of  pacha,  and  thej  are 
addressed  by  it  as  a  proper  name.  This  is  one  respect  in  which 
their  European  education  will  refine  them  to  their  disadvantage 


LETTER  XXXVII, 

The  Grand  Bazar  of  Constantinople,  and  its  infinite  Variety  of  "Wonders— Silent  Shop 
keepers—Female  Curiosity— Adventure  with  a  Black-Eyed  Stranger— Tho  Bezestein— 
The  Strong-hold  of  Orientalism— Picture  of  a  Dragoman— The  Kibaub-Shop— A 
Dinner  without  Knives,  Forks,  or  Chairs — Cistern  of  the  Thousand  and  One  Columns. 

BRING  all  the  shops  of  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Boston, 
around  the  City  Hall,  remove  their  fronts,  pile  up  all  their  goods 
on  shelves  facing  the  street,  cover  the  whole  with  a  roof,  and 
metamorphose  your  trim  clerks  into  bearded,  turbaned,  and 
solemn  old  mussulmans,  smooth  Jews,  and  calpacked  and  rosy 
Armenians,  and  you  will  have  something  like  the  grand  bazar  of 
Constantinople.  You  can  scarcely  get  an  idea  of  it,  without 
having  been  there.  It  is  a  city  under  cover.  You  walk  all  day, 
and  day  after  day,  from  one  street  to  another,  winding  and 
turning,  and  trudging  up  hill  and  down,  and  never  go  out  of 
doors.  The  roof  is  as  high  as  those  of  our  three-story  houses, 
and  the  dim  light,  so  favorable  to  shop-keepers,  comes  struggling 
down  through  skylights,  never  cleaned  except  by  the  rains  of 
heaven. 

Strolling  through  the  bazar  is  an  endless  amusement.  It  is 
slow  work,  for  the  streets  are  as  crowded  as  a  church-aisle  after 
after  service ;  and,  pushed  aside  one  moment  by  a  bevy  of 
Turkish  ladies,  shuffling  along  in  their  yellow  slippers,  muffled  to 


316        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  eyes,  the  next  by  a  fat  slave  carrying  a  child,  again  by  a 
kervas  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  clearing  the  way  for  some  coming 
dignitary,  you  find  your  only  policy  is  to  draw  in  your  elbows, 
and  suffer  the  motley  crowd  to  shove  you  about  at  their  pleasure. 

Each  shop  in  this  world  of  traffic  may  be  two  yards  wide, 
The  owner  sits  cross-legged  on  the  broad  counter  below,  the  height 
of  a  chair  from  the  ground,  and  hands  you  all  you  want  without 
stirring  from  his  seat.  One  broad  bench  counter  runs  the  length 
of  the  street,  and  the  different  shops  are  only  divided  by  the 
slight  partition  of  the  shelves.  The  purchaser  seats  himself  on 
the  counter,  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  the  crowd,  and  the  shopman 
spreads  out  his  goods  on  his  knees,  never  condescending  to  open 
his  lips  except  to  tell  you  the  price.  If  he  exclaims  "  lono,"  or 
"  efl/0,"  (the  only  words  a  real  Turk  ever  knows  of  another 
language),  he  is  stared  at  by  his  neighbors  as  a  man  would  be  in 
Broadway  who  should  break  out  with  an  Italian  bravura.  Ten 
to  one,  while  you  are  examining  his  goods,  the  bearded  trader 
creeps  through  the  hole  leading  to  his  kennel  of  a  dormitory  in 
the  rear,  washes  himself  and  returns  to  his  counter,  where, 
spreading  his  sacred  carpet  in  the  direction  of  Mecca,  he  goes 
through  his  prayers  and  prostrations,  perfectly  unconscious  of  your 
presence,  or  that  of  the  passing  crowd.  No  vocation  interferes 
with  his  religious  duty.  Five  times  a  day,  if  he  were  running 
from  the  plague,  the  mussulman  would  find  time  for  prayers. 

The  Frank  purchaser  attracts  a  great  deal  of  curiosity.  As 
he  points  to  an  embroidered  handkerchief,  or  a  rich  shawl,  or  a 
pair  of  gold-worked  slippers,  Turkish  ladies  of  the  first  rank, 
gathering  their  yashmacks  securely  over  their  faces,  stop  close  to 
his  side,  not  minding  if  they  push  him  a  little  to  get  nearer  the 
desired  article.  Feeling  not  the  least  timidity,  except  for  their 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  317 

faces,  these  true  children  of  Eve  examine  the  goods  in  barter, 
watch  the  stranger's  countenance,  and  if  he  takes  off  his  glove, 
or  pulls  out  his  purse,  take  it  up  and  look  at  it,  without  even 
saying  "  by  your  leave."  Their  curiosity  often  extends  to  your 
dress,  and  they  put  out  their  little  henna-stained  fingers  and  pass 
them  over  the  sleeve  of  your  coat  with  a  gurgling  expression  of 
admiration  at  its  fineness,  or  if  you  have  rings  or  a  watch-guard, 
they  lift  your  hand  or  pull  out  your  watch  with  no  kind  of  scruple. 
I  have  met  with  several  instances  of  this  in  the  course  of  my 
rambles.  But  a  day  or  two  ago  I  found  myself  rather  more 
than  usual  a  subject  of  curiosity.  I  was  alone  in  the  street  of 
embroidered  handkerchiefs  (every  minute  article  has  its  peculiar 
bazar),  and  wishing  to  look  at  some  of  uncommon  beauty,  I 
called  one  of  the  many  Jews  always  near  a  stranger  to  turn  a 
penny  by  interpreting  for  him,  and  was  soon  up  to  the  elbows  in 
goods  that  would  tempt  a  female  angel  out  of  Paradise.  As  I 
was  selecting  one  for  a  purchase,  a  woman  plumped  down  on  the 
seat  beside  me,  and  fixed  her  great,  black,  unwinking  eyes  upon 
my  face,  while  an  Abyssinian  slave  and  another  white  woman, 
both  apparently  her  dependents,  stood  respectfully  at  her  back. 
A  small  turquoise  ring  (the  favorite  color  in  Turkey),  first 
attracted  her  attention.  She  took  up  my  hand  in  her  soft,  fat 
fingers,  and  dropped  it  again  without  saying  a  word.  I  looked 
at  my  interpreter,  but  he  seemed  to  think  it  nothing  extraordi 
nary,  and  I  went  on  with  my  bargain.  Presently  my  fine-eyed 
friend  pulled  me  by  the  sleeve,  and  as  I  leaned  toward  her, 
rubbed  her  forefinger  very  quickly  over  my  cheek,  looking  at  me 
intently  all  the  while.  I  was  a  little  disturbed  with  the  lady's 
familiarity,  and  asked  my  Jew  what  she  wanted.  I  found  that 
my  rubicund  complexion  was  something  uncommon  among  these 


818        SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


dark-skinned  orientals,  and  she  wished  to  satisfy  herself  that  I 
was  not  painted  !  I  concluded  my  purchase,  and  putting  the 
parcel  into  my  pocket,  did  my  prettiest  at  an  oriental  salaam, 
but  to  my  mortification,  the  lady  only  gathered  up  her  yashmack. 
and  looked  surprised  out  of  her  great  eyes  at  my  freedom.  My 
Constantinople  friends  inform  me  that  I  am  to  lay  no  "  unction 
to  my  soul"  from  her  notice,  such  liberties  being  not  at  all 
particular.  The  husband  exacts  from  his  half-dozen  wives  only 
the  concealment  of  their  faces,  and  they  have  no  other  idea  of 
impropriety  in  public. 

In  the  centre  of  the  bazar,  occupying  about  as  much  space  as 
the  body  of  the  City  Hall  in  New  York,  is  what  is  called  the 
bezestein.  You  descend  into  it  from  four  directions  by  massive 
gates  which  are  shut,  and  all  persons  excluded,  except  between 
seven  and  twelve  of  the  forenoon.  This  is  the  core  of  Constan 
tinople — the  soul  and  citadel  of  orientalism.  It  is  devoted  to 
the  sale  of  arms  and  to  costly  articles  only.  The  roof  is 
loftier  and  the  light  more  dim  than  on  the  outer  bazars,  and  the 
merchants  who  occupy  its  stalls,  are  old  and  of  established  credit. 
Here  are  subjects  for  the  pencil !  If  you  can  take  your  eye  from 
those  Damascus  sabres,  with  their  jewelled  hilts  and  costly 
scabbards,  or  from  those  gemmed  daggers  and  guns  inlaid  with 
silver  and  gold,  cast  a  glance  along  that  dim  avenue  and  see 
what  a  range  there  is  of  glorious  old  gray  beards,  with  their 
snowy  turbans  !  These  are  the  Turks  of  the  old  regime,  before 
Sultan  Mahmoud  disfigured  himself  with  a  coat  like  a  "  dog  of  a 
Christian,"  and  broke  in  upon  the  customs  of  the  orients.  These 
are  your  opium-eaters,  who  smoke  even  in  their  sleep,  and  would 
not  touch  wine  if  it  were  handed  them  by  houris  !  These  are 
your  fatalists,  who  would  scarce  take  the  trouble  to  get  out  of 


ON    BOARD  AN   AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  319 


the  way  of  a  lion,  and  who  are  as  certain  of  the  miracle  of 
Mohammed's  coffin  as  of  the  length  of  the  pipe,  or  of  the  quality 
of  the  tobacco  of  Shiraz  ! 

I  have  spent  many  an  hour  in  the  bezestein,  steeping  my  fancy 
in  its  rich  orientalism,  and  sometimes  trying  to  make  a  purchase 
for  myself  or  others.  It  is  curious  to  see  with  what  perfect 
indifference  these  old  cross-legs  attend  to  the  wishes  of  a  Chris 
tian.  I  was  idling  round  one  day  with  an  English  traveller, 
whom  I  had  known  in  Italy,  when  a  Persian  robe  of  singular 
beauty  hanging  on  one  of  the  stalls  arrested  my  companion's 
attention.  He  had  with  him  his  Turkish  dragoman,  and  as  the 
old  merchant  was  smoking  away  and  looking  right  at  us,  we 
pointed  to  the  dress  over  his  head,  and  the  interpreter  asked  to 
see  it.  The  inussulman  smoked  calmly  on,  taking  no  more 
notice  of  us  than  of  the  white  clouds  curling  through  his  beard. 
He  might  have  sat  for  Michael  Angelo's  Moses.  Thin,  pale, 
calm,  and  of  a  statue-like  repose  of  countenance  and  posture, 
with  a  large  old  fashioned  turban,  and  a  curling  beard  half 
mingled  with  gray,  his  neck  bare,  and  his  fine  bust  enveloped  in 
the  flowing  and  bright  colored  drapery  of  the  east — I  had  never 
seen  a  more  majestic  figure.  He  evidently  did  not  wish  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  us.  At  last  I  took  out  my  snuff-box,  and 
addressing  him  with  "  effendi !"  the  Turkish  title  of  courtesy, 
laid  my  hand  on  my  breast  and  offered  him  a  pinch.  Tobacco  in 
this  unaccustomed  shape  is  a  luxury  here,  and  the  amber  mouth 
piece  emerged  from  his  mustache,  and  putting  his  three  fingers 
into  my  box,  he  said  "pekkhe!"  the  Turkish  ejaculation  of 
approval.  He  then  made  room  for  us  on  his  carpet,  and  with  a 
cloth  measure  took  the  robe  from  its  nail,  and  spread  it  before 
us.  My  friend  bought  it  unhesitatingly  for  a  dressing-gown,  and 


320          SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

we  spent  an  hour  in  looking  at  shawls,  of  prices  perfectly 
startling,  arms,  chalices  for  incense,  spotless  amber  for  pipes, 
pearls,  bracelets  of  the  time  of  Sultan  Selira,  and  an  endless 
variety  of  "  things  rich  and  rare."  The  closing  of  the  bezestein 
gates  interrupted  our  agreeable  employment,  and  our  old  friend 
gave  us  the  parting  salaam  very  cordially  for  a  Turk.  I  have 
been  there  frequently  since,  and  never  pass  without  offering  my 
snuff-box,  and  taking  a  whiff  or  two  from  his  pipe,  which  I  can 
not  refuse,  though  it  is  not  out  of  his  mouth,  except  when  offered 
to  a  friend,  from  sunrise  till  midnight. 


One  of  the  regular  "  lions"  of  Constantinople  is  a  kibau'b  shop, 
or  Turkish  restaurant.  In  a  ramble  with  our  consul,  the  other 
day,  in  search  of  the  newly-discovered  cistern  of  a  "  thousand 
and  one  columns,"  we  found  ourselves,  at  the  hungry  hour  of 
twelve,  opposite  a  famous  shop  near  the  slave-market.  I  was 
rather  staggered  at  the  first  glance.  A  greasy  fellow,  with  his 
shirt  rolled  to  his  shoulders,  stood  near  the  door,  commending 
his  shop  to  the  world  by  slapping  on  the  flank  a  whole  mutton 
that  hung  beside  him,  while,  as  a  customer  came  in,  he  dexter 
ously  whipped  out  a  slice,  had  it  cut  in  a  twinkling  into  bits  as 
large  as  a  piece  of  chalk  (I  have  stopped  five  minutes  in  vain,  to 
find  a  better  comparison),  strung  upon  a  long  iron  skewer,  and 
laid  on  the  coals.  My  friend  is  an  old  Constantinopolitan,  and 
had  eaten  kibaubs  before.  He  entered  without  hesitation,  and 
the  adroit  butcher,  giving  his  big  trowsers  a  fresh  hitch,  and 
tightening  his  girdle,  made  a  new  cut  for  his  "  narrow  legged" 
customers,  and  wished  us  a  good  appetite  (the  T'irks  look  with 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  321 


great  contempt  on  our  tight  pantaloons,  and  distinguish  us  by  this 
epithet).  We  got  up  on  the  platform,  crossed  our  legs  under  us 
as  well  as  we  could,  and  I  can  not  deny  that  the  savory  missives 
that  occasionally  reached  my  nostrils,  bred  a  gradual  reconcilia 
tion  between  my  stomach  and  my  eyes. 

In  some  five  minutes,  a  tin  platter  was  set  between  us,  loaded 
with  piping  hot  Jdbaubs,  sprinked  with  salad,  and  mixed  with  bits 
of  bread  ;  our  friend  the  cook,  by  way  of  making  the  amiable, 
Btirriag  it  up  well  with  his  finders  as  he  brought  it  alono-.  As 

O  I  O  O  O 

Modely  says  in  the  play,  "  In  love  or  mutton,  I  generally  fall  to 
without  ceremony,"  but,  spite  of  its  agreeable  flavor,  I  shut  my 
eyes,  and  selected  a  very  small  bit,  before  I  commenced  upon  the 
kibaubs.  It  was  very  good  eating,  I  soon  found  out,  and,  my 
fingers  once  greased  (for  we  are  indulged  with  neither  knife,  fork, 
nor  skewer,  in  Turkey),  I  proved  myself  as  good  a  trencher-man 
as  my  friend. 

The  middle  and  lower  classes  of  Constantinople  live  between 
these  shops  and  the  cafes.  A  dish  of  kibaubs  serves  them  for 
dinner,  and  they  drink  coffee,  which  they  get  for  about  half  a 
cent  a  cup,  from  morning  till  night.  We  paid  for  our  mess 
(which  was  more  than  any  two  men  could  eat  at  once,  unless  very 
hungry),  twelve  cents. 

We  started  again  with  fresh  courage,  in  search  of  the  cistern. 
We  soon  found  the  old  one,  which  is  an  immense  excavation,  with 
a  roof,  supported  by  five  hundred  granite  columns,  employed 
now  as  a  place  for  twisting  silk,  and  escaping  from  its  clamorous 
denizens,  who  rushed  up  after  us  to  the  daylight,  begging  paras, 
we  took  one  of  the  boys  for  a  guide,  and  soon  found  the  object  of 
our  search. 

Knocking  at  the  door  of  a  half-ruined  house,  in  one  of  the  lone- 


322        SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


liest  streets  of  the  city,  an  old,  sore-eyed  Armenian,  with  shabby 
culpack,  and  every  mark  of  extreme  poverty,  admitted  us,  pet 
tishly  demanding  our  entrance  money,  before  he  let  us  pass  the 
threshold.  Flights  of  steps,  dangerously  ruinous,  led  us  down, 
first  into  a  garden,  far  below  the  level  of  the  street,  and  thence 
into  a  dark  and  damp  cavern,  the  bottom  of  which  was  covered 
with  water.  As  the  eye  became  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  wo 
could  distinguish  tall  and  beautiful  columns  of  marble  and  granite, 
with  superb  Corinthian  capitals,  perhaps  thirty  feet  in  height,  re 
ceding  as  far  as  the  limits  of  our  obscured  sight.  The  old  man 
said  there  were  a  thousand  of  them.  The  number  was  doubtless 
exaggerated,  but  we  saw  enough  to  convince  us,  that  here  was 
covered  up,  almost  unknown,  one  of  the  most  costly  and  magni 
ficent  works  of  the  Christian  emperors  of  Constantinople. 


LETTER   XXXVIII, 

Belgrade— The  Cottage  of  Lady  Montague— Turkish  Cemeteries— Natural  Taste  of  tte 
Moslems  for  tLe  Picturesque— A  Turkish  Carriage— Washerwomen  Surprised— Gigan 
tic  Forest  Trees— The  Keservoir— Keturn  to  Constantinople. 

I  LEFT  Constantinople  on  horseback  with  a  party  of  officers, 
and  two  American  travellers  in  the  east,  early  on  one  of  nature's 
holiday  mornings,  for  Belgrade.  We  loitered  a  moment  in  the 
small  Armenian  cemetery,  the  only  suburb  that  separates  the 
thickly  crowded  street  from  the  barren  heath  that  stretches  away 
from  the  city  on  every  side  to  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  It  is  sin 
gular  to  gallop  thus  from  the  crowded  pavement,  at  once  into  an 
uncultivated,  and  unfenced  desert.  We  are  so  accustomed  to 
suburban  gardens  that  the  traveller  wonders  how  the  markets  of 
this  overgrown  and  immense  capital  are  supplied.  A  glance 
back  upon  the  Bosphorus,  and  toward  the  Asian  shore,  and  the 
islands  of  the  sea  of  Marmora,  explains  the  secret.  The  waters 
in  every  direction  around  this  sea-girdled  city  are  alive  with 
boats,  from  the  larger  kachamlas  and  sandals  to  the  egg-shell 
caique,  swarming  into  the  Golden  Horn  in  countless  numbers, 
laden  with  every  vegetable  of  the  productive  east.  It  is  said, 
however,  that  it  is  durio  -ions  to  thrive  too  near  the  eye  of  the 


324         SUMMER   CRUISE  IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


sultan.  The  summary  mode  for  rewarding  favorites  and  provid 
ing  for  the  residence  of  ambassadors,  by  the  simple  confiscation 
of  the  prettiest  estate  desirably  situated,  is  thought  to  have 
something  to  do  with  the  barrenness  of  the  immediate  neighbor 
hood. 

The  Turks  carry  their  contempt  of  the  Christian  even  beyond 
the  grave.  The  funereal  cypress,  so  singularly  beautiful  in  its 
native  east,  is  permitted  to  throw  its  dark  shadows  only  upon 
turbaned  tombstones.  The  Armenian  rayah,  the  oppressed 
Greek,  and  the  more  hated  Jew,  slumber  in  their  unprotected 
graves  on  the  open  heath.  It  almost  reconciles  one  to  the 
haughtiness  and  cruelty  of  the  Turkish  character,  however,  to 
stand  on  one  of  the  "  seven  hills"  of  Stamboul,  and  look  around 
upon  their  own  beautiful  cemeteries.  On  every  sloping  hill  side, 
in  every  rural  nook,  in  the  court  of  the  splendid  mosque,  stands  a 
dark  necropolis,  a  small  city  of  the  dead,  shadowed  so  thickly  by 
the  close-growing  cypresses,  that  the  light  of  heaven  penetrates 
but  dimly.  You  can  have  no  conception  of  the  beauty  it  adds  to 
the  landscape.  And  then  from  the  bosom  of  each,  a  slender 
minaret  shoots  into  the  sky  as  if  pointing  out  the  flight  of  the  de 
parted  spirit,  and  if  you  enter  within  its  religious  darkness,  you 
find  a  taste  and  elegance  unknown  in  more  civilized  countries, 
the  humblest  headstone  lettered  with  gold,  and  the  more  costly 
sculptured  into  forms  the  most  sumptuous,  and  fenced  and 
planted  with  flowers  never  neglected. 

In  the  east,  the  graveyard  is  not,  as  with  us,  a  place  abandoned 
to  its  dead.  Occupying  a  spot  of  chosen  loveliness,  it  is  resorted 
to  by  women  and  children,  and  on  holidays  by  men,  whose  indo 
lent  natures  find  happiness  enough  in  sitting  on  the  green  bank 
around  the  resting-place  of  their  relatives  and  friends.  Here, 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  325 


while  their  children  are  playing  around  them,  they  smoke  in  mo 
tionless  .silence,  watching  the  gay  Bosphorus  or  the  busier  curve 
of  the  Golden  Horn,  one  of  which  is  visible  from  every  cemetery 
in  the  Stamboul.  Occasionally  you  see  large  parties  of  twenty 
or  thirty,  sitting  together,  their  slight  feast  of  sweetmeats  and 
sherbet  spread  in  some  grassy  nook,  and  the  surrounding  head 
stones  serving  as  leaning-places  for  the  women,  or  bounds  for  the 
infant  gambols  of  the  gayly-dressed  little  mussulmans. 

Whatever  else  we  may  deny  the  Turk,  we  must  allow  him  to 
possess  a  genuine  love  for  rural  beauty.  The  cemeteries  we 
have  described,  the  choice  of  his  dwelling  on  the  Bosphorus,  and 
his  habit  of  resorting,  whenever  he  has  leisure,  to  some  lovely 
scene  to  sit  the  livelong  day  in  the  sunshine,  are  proof  enough. 
And  then  all  over  the  hills,  both  in  Anatolia  and  Roumelia, 
wherever  there  is  a  fine  view  or  a  greener  spot  than  elsewhere, 
you  find  the  small  sairgak,  the  grassy  platform  on  which  he 
spreads  his  carpet,  and  you  may  look  in  vain  for  a  spot  better 
selected  for  his  purpose. 

Things  are  sooner  seen  than  described  (I  wish  it  were  as 
agreeable  to  describe  as  to  see  them  !)  and  all  this  digression, 
and  much  more  which  I  spare  the  reader,  is  the  fruit  of  five 
minutes'  reflection  while  the  suridjee  tightens  his  girths  in  the 
Armenian  burying-ground.  The  turbaned  Turk  once  more  in 
his  saddle,  then  we  will  canter  on  some  three  miles,  if  you  please, 
over  as  naked  a  heath  as  the  sun  looks  upon,  to  the  "  Valley  of 
Sweet  Waters."  I  have  described  this,  I  think,  before.  We 
live  to  learn,  and  my  intelligent  friend  tells  me,  as  we  draw  rein, 
and  wind  carefully  down  the  steep  descent,  that  the  site  of  the 
sultan's  romantic  serai,  in  the  bosom  of  the  valley,  was  once  oc 
cupied  by  the  first  printing-press  established  in  Turkey — the 


326        SUMMER    CRUISE  IN  THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


fruit  of  an  embassy  to  the  court  of  Louis  the  Fifteenth,  bj  Me- 
heraet  Effendi,  in  the  reign  of  Achmet  the  Third.  And  thus 
having  delivered  myself  of  a,  fact,  a  thing  for  which  I  have  a  natu 
ral  antipathy  in  writing,  let  ns  gallop  up  the  yelvet  brink  of  tho 
Barbyses. 

We  had  kept  our  small  Turkish  horses  to  their  speed  for  a 
mile,  with  the  enraged  suridjee  crying  after  us  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  "ya-wash!  ya-wash!"  (slowly,  slowly  !)  when,  at  a  bend 
of  the  valley,  right  through  the  midst  of  its  velvet  verdure,  came 
rolling  along  an  aruba,  loaded  with  ladies.  This  pretty  word 
signifies  in  Turkish  a  carriage,  and  the  thing  itself  reminds  you 
directly  of  the  fantastic  vehicles  in  which  fairy  queens  come  upon 
the  stage.  First  appear  two  gray  oxen,  with  their  tails  tied  to  a 
hoop  bent  back  from  the  bend  of  the  pole,  their  heads  and  horns 
and  the  long  curve  of  the  hoop  decked  with  red  and  yellow  tassels 
so  profusely,  that  it  looks  at  a  distance  like  a  walking  clump  of 
hollyhocks.  As  you  pass  the  poor  oxen  (almost  lifted  off  their 
hind  legs  by  the  straining  of  the  hoop  upon  their  tails),  a  four- 
wheeled  vehicle  makes  its  appearance,  the  body  and  wheels 
carved  elaborately  and  gilt  all  over,  and  the  crimson  cover  rolled 
up  just  so  far  as  to  show  a  cluster  of  veiled  women,  cross-legged 
upon  cushions  within,  and  riding  in  perfect  silence.*  A  eunuch  or 
a  very  old  Turk  walks  at  the  side,  and  thus  the  moslem  ladies 
"  take  kaif"  as  it  is  called — in  other  words  go-a-phasuring. 
But  a  prettier  sight  than  this  gay  affair  rolling  noiselessly  over 

*  Whether  the  difficulty  of  talking  through  the  yashmatk,  which  is  drawn 
tight  over  the  mouth  and  nose,  may  account  for  it.  or  whether  they  have 
another  race  of  the  sex  in  the  east,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say,  but  Turkish 
women  are  remarkable  for  their  taciturnity. 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  327 


the  pathless  green  sward  of  the  Valley  of  Sweet  Waters,  you  may 
not  see  in  a  year's  travel. 

A  beautiful  Englishwoman,  mounted  (if  I  may  dare  to  write 
itj  on  a  more  beautiful  Arabian,  came  flying  toward  us  as  we  ap 
proached  the  head  of  the  valley,  the  long  feathers  in  her  riding 
cap  all  but  brushing  our  admiring  eyes  out  as  she  passed,  and 
other  living  thing  met  we  none  till  we  drew  up  in  the  edge  of  the 
forest  of  Belgrade.  A  half  hour  brought  us  to  a  bold  descent, 
and  through  the  openings  in  the  wood  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
celebrated  retreat  of  Lady  Montague,  a  village,  tossed  into  the 
lap  of  as  bright  a  dell  as  the  sun  looks  upon  in  his  journey.  A 
lively  brook,  that  curls  about  in  the  grass  like  a  silver  flower 
worked  into  the  green  carpet,  overcomes  at  last  its  unwillingness 
to  depart,  and  vanishes  from  the  fair  scene  under  a  clump  of  wil 
lows  ;  and,  as  if  it  knew  it  was  sitting  for  its  picture,  there  must 
needs  be  a  group  of  girls  with  their  trowsers  tucked  up  to  the 
knee,  washing  away  so  busily  in  the  brook,  that  they  did  not  see 
that  half  a  dozen  Frank  horsemen  were  upon  them,  and  their  for 
gotten  yashmacks  all  fallens-bout  their  shoulders  ! 

We  dismounted,  and  finding  (what  I  never  saw  before)  a  red- 
headed  Frenchman,  walking  about  in  his  slippers,  we  inquired  for 
the  house  of  Lady  Montague.  He  had  never  heard  of  her  !  A 
cottage,  a  little  separated  from  the  village,  untenanted,  and  look 
ing  as  if  it  should  be  hers,  stood  on  a  swell  of  the  valley,  and  we 
found  by  the  scrawled  names  and  effusions  of  travellers  upon  the 
gates,  that  we  were  not  mistaken  in  selecting  it  for  the  shrine  of 
our  sentiment. 

I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  add,  that  in  the  romantic  forest  of 
Belgrade,  we  listened  to  the  calls  of  mortal  hunger.  With  some 
very  sour  wine,  however  we  did  drink  to  the  memory  of  Lady 


328          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


Mary  and  the  "  fair  Fatirna,"  washing  down  with  the  same 
draught  as  brown  bread  as  ever  I  saw,  and  some  very  indifferent 
filberts. 

We  mounted  once  more,  and  followed  our  silent  guide  across 
the  brook,  politely  taking  it  below  the  spot  where  our  naiads  of 
the  stream  were  washing,  and  following  its  slender  valley  for  a 
mile,  arrived  at  one  of  the  gigantic  lendts,  for  which  the  place  is 
famous.  To  give  romance  its  proper  precedence  over  reality, 
however,  I  must  first  mention,  that  on  the  soft  bank  of  the  arti 
ficial  lake,  which  I  shall  presently  describe,  Constantino  Ghika, 
disguised  as  a  shepherd,  stole  an  interview  with  the  fair  Veronica, 
and  in  the  wild  forest  to  the  right,  they  wandered  till  they  lost 
their  way  ;  an  adventure  of  which  they  only  regretted  the  sequel, 
finding  it  again  !  If  you  have  not  read  "  The  Armenians,"  this 
pretty  turn  in  my  travels  is  thrown  away  upon  you. 

The  valley  of  Belgrade  widens  and  rounds  into  a  lake-shaped 
hollow  just  here,  and  across  it,  to  form  a  reservoir  for  the  supply 
of  the  city  by  the  aqueducts  of  Valens  and  Justinian,  is  built  a 
gigantic  marble  wall.  There  is  no  waiter  just  now,  which,  for  a 
lake,  is  rather  a  deficiency  ;  but  the  vast  white  wall  only  stands 
up  against  the  sky,  bolder  and  more  towering,  and  coming  sud 
denly  upon  it  in  that  lonely  place,  you  might  take  it,  if  the 
"  fine  phrensy"  were  on  you,  for  the  barrier  of  some  enchanted 
demesne. 

We  passed  on  into  the  forest,  winding  after  an  almost  invisible 
path,  up  hill  and  down  dale,  till  we  came  to  the  second  bendt. 
This,  and  the  third,  which  is  near  by,  are  larger  and  of  more 
ornamental  architecture  than  the  first,  and  the  forest  around 
them  is  one  in  which,  if  he  turned  his  back  on  the  lofty  walls,  a 
wild  Indian  would  feel  himself  at  home.  I  have  not  seen  such 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  329 


trees  since  I  left  America;  clear  of  all  underwood,  and  the  long 
vistas  broken  only  by  the  trunk  of  some  noble  oak,  fallen  aslant, 
it  has  for  miles  the  air  of  a  grand  old  wilderness,  unprofaned  by 
axe  or  fire.  In  the  midst  of  such  scenery  as  this,  to  ride  up  to 
the  majestic  bendt,  faced  with  a  front  like  a  temple,  and  crowned 
by  a  marble  balustrade,  with  a  salient  and  raised  crescent  in  the 
centre,  like  a  throne  for  some  monarch  of  the  forest,  it  must  be  a 
more  staid  imagination  than  mine  that  would  not  feel  a  touch  of 
the  knight  of  La  Mancha,  and  spur  up  to  find  a  gate,  and  a  bugle 
to  blow  a  blast  for  the  warder !  It  is  just  the  looking  place  I 
imagined  for  an  enchanted  castle,  when  reading  my  first  ro 
mances. 

Farther  on  in  the  forest  we  found  several  circular  structures, 
like  baths,  sunk  in  the  earth,  with  flights  of  steps  winding  to  the 
bottom,  but  with  the  same  gigantic  trees  growing  at  their  very 
rim,  and  nothing  near  them  to  show  the  purpose  of  their  costly 
masonry.  We  stopped  to  form,  a  conjectui-e  or  two  with  the  aid 
of  the  genus  loci,  but  the  surly  suridjee,  probably  at  a  loss  to 
comprehend  the  object  of  looking  into  a  hole  full  of  dead  leaves, 
chose  to  put  his  horse  to  a  gallop  ;  and  having  no  Veronica  to 
make  a  romance  of  a  lost  path,  we  left  our  conjectures  to  gallop 
after. 

We  reached  the  waste  plains  above  the  city  at  sunset,  and 
turned  a  little  out  of  our  way  to  enter  through  the  Turkish 
cemetery  (poetically  called  by  Mr.  MacFarlane  "  death's  coro 
nal"),  on  the  summit  and  sides  of  the  hill  behind  Pera.  Broad 
daylight,  as  it  was  still  without,  it  was  deep  twilight  among  its 
thick-planted  cypresses  ;  and  our  horses,  starting  at  the  tall, 
white  tombstones,  hurried  through  its  damp  hollows  and  emerged 
on  a  brow  overlooking  the  bright  and  crowded  Bosphorus,  bathed 


330  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


at  the  moment  in  a  flood  of  sunset  glory.  I  said  again,  as  I 
reined  in  my  horse  and  gazed  down  upon  those  lovely  waters, 
there  is  no  such  scene  of  beauty  in  the  world  !  And  again  I  say, 
"  poor  Slingsby"  never  was  here  ! 


LETTER    XXXIX, 

Scutari— Tomb  of  the  Sultana  Valide— Mosque  of  the  Howling  Dervishes— A  Clerical 
Shoemaker— Visit  to  a  Turkish  Cemetery— Bird's-Eye  View  of  Stamboul  and  its 
Environs — Seraglio-Point — The  Seven  Towers. 

PULLED  over  to  Scutari  in  a  caique,  for  a  day's  ramble.  The 
Ckrysopolis,  the  u  golden  city"  of  the  ancients,  forms  the  Asian 
side  of  the  bay,  and,  though  reckoned,  generally,  as  a  part  of 
Constantinople,  is  in  itself  a  large  and  populous  capital.  It  is 
built  on  a  hill,  very  bold  upon  the  side  washed  by  the  sea  of 
Marmora,  but  leaning  toward  the  seraglio,  on  the  opposite  shore, 
with  the  grace  of  a  lady  (Asia)  bowing  to  her  partner  (Europe). 
You  will  find  the  simile  very  beautifully  elaborated  in  the  first 
chapter  of  u  The  Armenians." 

We  strolled  through  the  bazar  awhile,  meeting,  occasionally, 
a  caravan  of  tired  and  dusty  merchants,  coming  in  from  Asia, 
some  with  Syrian  horses,  and  some  with  dusky,  Nubian  slaves, 
following  barefoot,  in  their  blankets  ;  and,  emerging  from  the 
crowded  street  upon  a  square,  we  stopped  a  moment  to  look  at 
the  cemetery  and  gilded  fountains  of  a  noble  mosque.  Close  to 
the  street,  defended  by  a  railing  of  gilt  iron,  and  planted  about 
closely  with  cypresses,  stands  a  small  temple  of  airy  architecture. 


332          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


supported  on  four  slender  columns,  and  enclosed  by  a  net  of  gilt 
wire,  forming  a  spacious  aviary.  Within  sleeps  the  Sultana 
Valide.  Her  costly  monument,  elaborately  inscribed  in  red  and 
gold,  occupies  the  area  of  this  poetical  sepulchre  ;  small,  sweet- 
scented  shrubs  half  bury  it  in  their  rich  flowers,  and  birds  of  the 
gayest  plumage  flutter  and  sing  above  her  in  their  beautiful 
prison.  If  the  soul  of  the  departed  sultana  is  still  susceptible  of 
sentiment,  she  must  look  down  with  some  complacency  upon  the 
disposition  of  her  "  mortal  coil."  I  have  not  seen  so  fanciful  a 
grave  in  my  travels. 

We  ascended  the  hill  to  the  mosque  of  the  Howling  Dervishes. 
It  stands  in  the  edge  of  the  great  cemetery  of  Scutari,  the 
favorite  burial-place  of  the  Turks.  The  self-torturing  worship 
of  this  singular  class  of  devotees  takes  place  only  on  a  certain 
day  of  the  week,  and  we  found  the  gates  closed.  A  small  cafe 
stood  opposite,  sheltered  by  large  plane-trees,  and  on  a  bench  at 
the  door,  sat  a  dervish,  employed  in  the  unclerical  vocation  of 
mending  slippers.  Calling  for  a  cup  of  the  fragrant  Turkish 
coffee,  we  seated  ourselves  on  the  matted  bench  beside  him,  and, 
entering  into  conversation,  my  friend  and  he  were  soon  upon  the 
most  courteous  terms.  He  laid  down  his  last,  and  accepted  a 
proffered  narghile,  and,  between  the  heavily  drawn  puffs  of  the 
bubbling  vase,  gave  us  some  information  respecting  his  order,  of 
which  the  peculiarity  that  most  struck  me  was  a  law  compelling 
them  to  follow  some  secular  profession.  In  this  point,  at  least, 
they  are  more  apostolic  than  the  clergy  of  Chistendom.  What 
ever  may  be  the  dervish's  excellence  as  a  "  mender  of  souls," 
thought  I,  as  I  took  up  the  last,  and  looked  at  the  stitching  of 
the  bright  new  patch,  (may  I  get  well  out  of  this  sentence  without 
a  pun  !)  I  doubt  whether  there  is  a  divine  within  the  Christian  paltf 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  333 

who  could  turn  out  so  pretty  a  piece  of  work  in  any  correspond 
ing  calling.  Our  coffee  drunk  and  our  chibouques  smoked  to 
ashes,  we  took  leave  of  our  ^p'/os/^-mending  friend,  who  laid  his 
hand  on  his  breast,  and  said,  with  the  expressive  phraseology  of 
the  east,  "  You  shall  be  welcome  again." 

"We  entered  the  gloomy  shadow  of  the  vast  cemetery,  and 
found  its  cool  and  damp  air  a  grateful  exchange  for  the  sunshine. 
The  author  of  Anastasius  gives  a  very  graphic  description  of  this 
place,  throwing  in  some  horrors,  however,  fer  which  he  is  in 
debted  to  his  admirable  imagination.  I  never  was  in  a  more 
agreeable  place  for  a  summer-morning's  lounge,  and,  as  I  sat 
down  on  a  turbaned  headstone,  near  the  tomb  of  Mohammed  the 
second's  horse,  and  indulged  in  a  train  of  reflections  arising  from 
the  superior  distinction  of  the  brute's  ashes  over  those  of  his 
master,  I  could  remember  no  place,  except  Plato's  Academy  at 
Athens,  where  I  had  mused  so  absolutely  at  my  ease. 

We  strolled  on.  A  slender  and  elegantly-carved  slab,  capped 
with  a  small  turban,  fretted  and  gilt,  arrested  my  attention. 
u  It  is  the  tomb,"  said  my  companion,  "  of  one  of  the  ichoglans 
or  sultan's  pages.  The  peculiar  turban  is  distinctive  of  his 
rank,  and  the  inscription  says,  he  died  at  eighteen,  after  having 
seen  enough  of  the  world  !  Similar  sentiments  are  to  be  found 
on  almost  every  stone."  Close  by  stood  the  ambitious  cenotaph 
of  a  former  pacha  of  Widin,  with  a  swollen  turban,  crossed  with 
folds  of  gold,  and  a  footstone  painted  and  carved,  only  less 
gorgeously  than  the  other  ;  and  under  his  name  and  titles  was 
written,  "  I  enjoyed  not  the  world"  Farther  on,  we  stopped  at 
the  black-banded  turban  of  a  cadi,  and  read  again,  underneath, 
u  1  took  no  pleasure  in  this  evil  world."  You  would  think  the 
Turks  a  philosophizing  people,  judging  by  these  posthumous 


334         SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


declarations  ;  but  one  need  not  travel  to  learn  that  tombstones 
are  sad  liars. 

The  cemetery  of  Scutari  covers  as  much  ground  as  a  city.  Its 
black  cypress  pall  spreads  away  over  hill  and  dale,  and  termi 
nates,  at  last,  on  a  long  point  projecting  into  Marmora,  as  if  it 
would  pour  into  the  sea  the  dead  it  could  no  longer  cover.  From 
the  Armenian  village,  immediately  above,  it  forms  a  dark,  and 
not  unpicturesque  foreground  to  a  brilliant  picture  of  the  gulf  of 
Nicomedia  and  the  clustering  Princes'  Islands.  With  the 
economy  of  room  which  the  Turks  practise  in  their  burying- 
grounds,  laying  the  dead,  literally,  side  by  side,  and  the  immense 
extent  of  this  forest  of  cypresses,  it  is  probable  that  on  no  one  spot 
on  the  earth  are  so  many  of  the  human  race  gathered  together. 

"We  wandered  about  among  the  tombs  till  we  began  to  desire  to 
see  the  cheerful  light  of  day,  and  crossing  toward  the  height  of 
Bulgurlu,  commenced  its  ascent,  with  the  design  of  descending 
by  the  other  side  to  the  Bosphorus,  and  returning,  by  caique,  to 
the  city.  Walking  leisurely  on  between  fields  of  the  brightest 
cultivation,  we  passed,  half  way  up,  a  small  and  rural  serai,  the 
summer  residence  of  Esmeh  Sultana,  the  younger  sister  of  the 
sultan,  and  soon  after  stood,  well  breathed,  on  the  lofty  summit 
of  Bulgurlu.  The  constantly-occurring  sairgahs,  or  small  grass 
platforms,  for  spreading  the  carpet  and  "  taking  kaif,"  show 
how  well  the  Turks  appreciate  the  advantages  of  a  position 
commanding,  perhaps,  views  unparalleled  in  the  world  for  their 
extraordinary  beauty.  But  let  us  take  breath  and  look  around 
us. 

We  stood  some  three  miles  back  from  the  Bosphorus,  perhaps 
a  thousand  feet  above  its  level.  There  lay  Constantinople  ! 
The  "  temptation  of  Satan"  could  not  have  been  more  sublime. 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  335 


It  seemed  as  if  all  the  "  kingdoms  of  the  earth"  were  swept 
confusedly  to  the  borders  of  the  two  continents.  From  Seraglio 
Point,  seven  miles  down  the  coast  of  Roumelia,  the  eye  followed 
a  continued  wall ;  and  from  the  same  point,  twenty  miles  up  the 
Bosphorus,  on  either  shore,  stretched  one  crowded  and  unbroken 
city  !  The  star-shaped  bay  in  the  midst,  crowded  with  flying 
boats  ;  the  Golden  Horn  sweeping  out  from  behind  the  hills,  and 
pouring  through  the  city  like  a  broad  river,  studded  with  ships  ; 
and,  in  the  palace-lined  and  hill-sheltered  Bosphorus,  the  sultan's 
fleet  at  anchor,  the  lofty  men-of-war  flaunting  their  blood-red 
flags,  and  thrusting  their  tapering  spars  almost  into  the  balconies 
of  the  fairy  dwellings,  and  among  the  bright  foliage  of  the 
terraced  gardens  above  them.  Could  a  scene  be  more  strangely 
and  beautifully  mingled  ? 

But  sit  down  upon  this  silky  grass,  and  let  us  listen  to  my 
polyglot  friend,  while  he  explains  the  details  of  the  panorama. 

First,  clear  over  the  sea  of  Marmora,  you  observe  a  snow- 
white  cloud  resting  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  That  is  Olympus. 
Within  sight  of  his  snowy  summit,  and  along  toward  the 
extremity  of  this  long  line  of  eastern  hills,  lie  Bithynia,  Phrygia, 
Cappadocia,  Paphlagonia,  and  the  whole  scene  of  the  apostles' 
travels  in  Asia  Minor  ;  and  just  at  his  feet,  if  you  will  conde 
scend  to  be  modern,  lies  Brusa,  famous  for  its  silks,  and  one  of 
the  most  populous  and  thriving  of  the  sultan's  cities.  Returning 
over  Marmora  by  the  Princes'  Islands,  at  the  western  extremity 
of  Constantinople,  stands  the  Fortress  of  the  Seven  Towers, 
where  fell  the  Emperor  Constantine  Palaeologus,  where  Othman 
the  second  was  strangled,  where  refractory  ambassadors  are  left 
to  come  to  their  senses  and  the  sultan's  terms,  and  where,  in 
short,  that  "  zealous  public  butcher,"  the  seraskier,  cuts  any 


336          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

Gordion  knot  that  may  tangle  his' political  meshes  ;  and  here  was 
the  famous  "  Golden  Gate,"  attended  no  more  by  its  "  fifty 
porters  with  white  wands,"  and  its  crowds  of  u  ichoglans  and 
mutes,  turban-keepers,  nail- cutters,  and  slipper-bearers,"  as  in 
the  days  of  the  Selims. 

Between  the  Seven  Towers  and  the  Golden  Horn  you  may 
count  the  "  seven  hills"  of  ancient  Stamboul,  the  towering 
arches  of  the  aqueduct  of  Valens,  crossing  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  the  swelling  dome  and  gold  tipped  minarets  of  a 
hundred  imperial  mosques  crowning  and  surrounding  their 
summits.  What  an  orient  look  do  those  gallery-bound  arid 
sky-piercing  shafts  give  to  the  varied  picture  ? 

There  is  but  one  "  Seraglio  Point"  in  the  world.  Look  at 
that  tapering  cape,  shaped  like  a  lady's  foot,  projecting  from 
Stamboul  toward  the  shore  of  Asia,  and  dividing  the  bay  from 
the  Sea  of  Marmora.  It  is  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  city, 
you  observe,  by  a  high  wall,  flanked  with  towers,  and  the 
circumference  of  the  whole  seraglio  may  be  three  miles.  I  Jut 
what  a  gem  of  beauty  it  is  !  In  what  varied  foliage  its  unap 
proachable  palaces  are  buried,  and  how  exquisitely  gleam  from  ' 
the  midst  of  the  bright  leaves  its  gilded  cupolas,  its  gay  balco 
nies,  its  airy  belvideres,  and  its  glittering  domes  !  And  mark 
the  height  of  those  dark  and  arrowy  cypresses,  shooting  from 
every  corner  of  its  imperial  gardens,  and  throwing  their  deep 
bhadows  on  every  bright  cluster  of  foliage,  and  every  gilded 
lattice  of  the  sacred  enclosure.  They  seem  to  remind  one,  that 
amid  all  its  splendor  and  with  all  its  secluded  retirement,  this 
gorgeous  sanctuary  of  royalty  has  been  stained,  from  its  first 
appropriation  by  the  monarchs  of  the  east  till  now,  with  the 
blood  of  victims  to  the  ambition  of  its  changing  masters.  The 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  337 


cypresses  are  still  young  over  the  graves  of  an  uncle  and  a 
brother,  whose  cold,  murder  within  those  lovely  precincts  prepared 
the  throne  for  the  present  sultan.  The  seraglio,  no  longer  the 
residence  of  Mahmoud  himself,  is  at  present  occupied  by  his 
children,  two  noble'  boys,  of  whom  one,  by  the  usual  system- 
must  fall  a  sacrifice  to  the  security  of  the  other. 

Keeping  on  toward  the  Black  Sea,  we  cross  the  Golden  Horn 
to  Pera,  the  European  and  diplomatic  quarter  of  the  city.  The 
high  hill  on  which  it  stands  overlooks  all  Constantinople;  and 
along  its  ridge  toward  the  beautiful  cemetery  on  the  brow,  runs 
the  principal  street  of  the  Franks,  the  promenade  of  the 
dragoman  exquisites,  and  the  Broadway  of  shops  and  belles. 
Here  meet,  on  the  narrow  pave,  the  veiled  Armenian,  who 
would  die  with  shame  to  show  her  chin  to  a  stranger,  and  the 
wife  of  the  European  merchant,  in  a  Paris  hat  and  short 
petticoats,  mutually  each  other's  sincere  horror.  Here  the  street  is 
somewhat  cleaner,  the  dogs  somewhat  less  anti-Christian,  and  hat 
and  trowsers  somewhat  less  objects  of  contempt.  It  is  a  poor 
abortion  of  a  place,  withal,  neither  Turkish  nor  Christian  ;  and 
nobody  who  could  claim  a  shelter  for  his  head  elsewhere,  would 
take  the  whole  of  its  slate-colored  and  shingled  palaces  as  a  gift. 

Just  beyond  is  the  mercantile  suburb  of  Galatan,  which  your 
dainty  diplomatist  would  not  write  on  his  card  for  an  embassy, 
but  for  which,  as  being  honestly  what  it  calls  itself,  I  entertain  a 
certain  respect,  wanting  in  my  opinion  of  its  mongrel  neighbor 
Heavy  gates  divide  these  different  quarters  of  the  city,  and  if 
you  would  pass  after  sunset,  you  must  anoint  the  hinges  with  a 
piastre. 

15 


LETTER   XL, 

Beauties  of  the  Bopphorus—  Summer-Palace  of  the  Sultan— Adventure  with  an  old 
Turkish  Woman -The  Feast  of  Bairam— The  Sultan  his  own  Butcher— His  Evil 
Propensities— Visit  to  the  Mosques— A  Formidable  Dervish— Santa  Sophia— Mosque  of 
Sultan  Achmet— Traces  of  Christianity. 

FROM  this  elevated  point,  the  singular  effect  of  a  desert 
commencing  from  the  very  streets  of  the  city  is  still  more 
observable.  The  compact  edge  of  the  metropolis  is  visible  even 
upon  the  more  rural  Bosphorus,  not  an  enclosure  or  a  straggling 
house  venturing  to  protrude  beyond  the  closely  pressed  limit. 
To  repeat  the  figure,  it  seems,  with  the  prodigious  mass  of 
habitations  on  either  shore,  as  if  all  the  cities  of  both  Europe 
and  Asia  were  swept  to  their  respective  borders,  or  as  if  the 
crowded  masses  upon  the  long  extending  shores  were  the  deposite 
of  some  mighty  overflow  of  the  sea. 

From  Pera  commence  the  numerous  villages,  separated  only 
by  name,  which  form  a  fringe  of  peculiarly  light  and  fantastic 
architecture  to  the  never-wearying  Bosphorus.  Within  the 
small  limit  of  your  eye,  upon  that  silver  link  between  the  two 
seas,  there  are  fifty  valleys  and  thirty  rivers,  and  an  imperial 
palaee  on  every  loveliest  spot  from  the  Black  Sea  to  Marmora. 
The  Italians  say,  "  See  Naples  and  die  '"  but  for  Naples  I 
would  read  Stamboul  and  the  JBosphorus. 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.        339 


Descending  unwillingly  from  this  enchanting  spot,  we  entered 
a  lonir  glen,  closed  at  the  water's  edge  by  the  sultan's  summer- 
palace,  and  present  residence  of  Beylerbey.  Half  way  down,  we 
met  a  decrepit  old  woman,  toiling  up  the  path,  and  my  friend, 
with  a  Wordsworthian  passion  for  all  things  humble  and  simpl- 
gave  her  the  Turkish  good-morrow,  and  inquired  her  business  at 
the  village.  She  had  been  to  Stavros,  to  sell  ten  paras'*  worth 
of  herbs — about  one  cent  of  our  currency.  He  put  a  small  piece 
of  silver  into  her  hand,  while,  with  the  still  strong  habit  of  Turk 
ish  modesty,  she  employed  the  other  in  folding  her  tattered 
yashmack  so  as  to  conceal  her  features  from  the  gaze  of  strangers. 
She  had  not  expected  charity.  "  What  is  this  for  r"  she  asked, 
looking  at  it  with  some  surprise.  "  To  buy  bread  for  your  child 
ren,  mother  !"  "  Eifendi  !"  said  the  poor  old  creature,  her 
voice  trembling,  and  the  t.'ars  streaming  f-om  her  eyes,  "  My 
children  are  all  dsad  !  There  is  no  one  now  bdu-ee.n  me  and 
Allah!"  It  were  worth  a  poet's  while  to  live  in  the  east.  Lib-, 
the  fairy  in  the  tale,  they  never  open  thuir  lips  but  they  C1  speak 
pearls." 

We  took  a  caique  at  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Selim,  at  Bcyler- 
bey,  and  floated  slowly  past  the  imperial  palace.  Five  or  six 
eunuchs,  with  their  red  caps  and  long  blue  dresses,  were  talking 
at  a  high  tenor  in  the  court-yard  of  the  harem,  and  we  gazed 
long  and  earnestly  at  the  fine  lattices  above,  concealing  so  many 
of  the  picked  beauties  of  the  empire.  A  mandolin,  very  indif 
ferently  strummed  in  one  of  the  projecting  wings,  betrayed  the 
employment  of  some  fair  Fatima,  and  there  was  a  single  moment 
when  we  could  see,  by  the  relief  of  a  corner  window,  the  outline 
of  a  female  figure  ;  but  the  caique  floated  remorselessly  on,  and 
our  busy  imaginations  had  their  own  unreal  shadows  for  tb-.Mr 


340        SUMMER    CRUISE  IN   THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


reward.  As  we  approached  the  central  facade  the  polished 
brazen  gates  flew  open,  and  a  band  of  thirty  musicians  came  out 
and  ranged  themselves  on  the  terrace  beneath  the  palace- 
windows,  announcing,  in  their  first  flourish,  that  Sultan  Mahmoud 
had  thrust  his  fingers  into  his  pilaw,  and  his  subjects  were  at 
liberty  to  dine.  Not  finding  their  music  much  to  our  taste,  wo 
ordered  the  caikjea  to  assist  the  current  a  little,  and  shooting 
past  Stavros,  we  cut  across  the  strait  from  the  old  palace  of 
Shemsheh  the  vizier,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  I  was  once  more  in 
my  floating  home,  under  the  "  star-spangled  banner." 


Constantinople  was  in  a  blaze  last  night,  with  the  illumination 
for  the  approach  of  the  Turkish  feast  of  Bairam.  The  minarets 
were  extremely  beautiful,  their  encircling  galleries  hung  with 
colored  lamps,  and  illuminated  festoons  suspended  from  one  to 
the  other.  The  ships  of  the  fleet  were  decked  also  with  thou 
sands  of  lamps,  and  the  effect  was  exceedingly  fine,  with  the 
r< .--flection  in  the  Bosphorus,  and  the  waving  of  the  suspended 
lights  in  the  wind.  The  sultan  celebrates  the  festa  by  taking  a 
virgin  to  his  b^'d,  and  sacrificing  twenty  sheep  with  his  own  hand. 
I  am  told  by  an  intelligent  physician  here,  that  this  playing  the 
butcher  is  an  every-day  business  with  the  "  Brother  of  the  Sun," 
every  safe  return  from  a  ride,  or  an  excursion  in  his  sultancl/ie. 
caique,  requiring  him  to  cut  the  throat  of  his  next  day's  mutton. 
It  may  account  partly  for  the  excessive  cruelty  of  character 
attributed  to  him. 

Among  other  bad  traits,  Mahmoud  is  said  to  be  very  avari 
cious.  It  is  related  of  his  youth,  that  he  was  permitted  occasion 
ally,  with  his  brother  (who  was  murdered  to  make  room  for  him 


ON  BOARD   AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  341 


on  the  throne),  to  walk  out  in  public  on  certain  days  with  their 
governor  ;  and  that,  upon  these  occasions,  each  was  intrusted 
with  a  purse  to  be  expended  in  charity.  The  elder  brother  soon 
distributed  his  piastres,  and  borrowed  of  his  attendants  to  con 
tinue  his  charities ;  while  Mahmoud  quietly  put  the  purse  in  his 
pocket,  and  added  it  to  his  private  hoard  on  his  return.  It  if 
said,  too,  that  he  has  a  particular  passion  for  upholstery,  and  in 
his  frequent  change  from  one  serai  to  another,  allows  no  nail  to 
be  driven  without  his  supervision.  Add  to  this  a  spirit  of 
perverse  contradiction,  so  truculent  that  none  but  the  most  abject 
flatterers  can  preserve  his  favor,  and  you  have  a  pretty  handful 
of  offsets  against  a  character  certainly  not  without  some  royal 
qualities. 


With  one  of  the  Reis  Effmdi's  and  one  of  the  seraskier's  offi 
cers,  followed  by  four  kervasses  in  the  Turkish  military  dress, 
and  every  man  a  pair  of  slippers  in  his  pocket,  we  accompanied 
the  commodore,  to-day,  on  a  visit  to  the  principal  mosques. 

Landing  first  at  Tophana,  on  the  Pera  side,  we  entered  the 
court  of  the  new  mosque  built  by  the  present  sultan,  whose 
elegant  exterior  of  white  marble  and  two  freshly-gilded  minarets 
we  had  admired  daily,  lying  at  anchor  without  sound  of  the  muez 
zin.  The  morning  prayers  were  just  over,  and  the  retiring  Turks 
looked,  with  lowering  brows  at  us,  as  we  pulled  off  our  boots  on 
the  sacred  threshold. 

We  entered  upon  what,  but  for  the  high  pulpit,  I  should  have 
taken  for  rather  a  superb  ball-room.  An  unencumbered  floor 
carpeted  gayly,  a  small  arabesque  gallery  over  the  door  quite  like 
an  orchestra,  chandeliers  and  lawns  in  great  profusion,  and  walls 


342  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 

painted  of  the  brightest  and  most  varied  colors,  formed  an 
interior  rather  wanting  in  the  "  dim  religious  light"  of  a  place 
of  worship.  We  were  shuffling  around  in  our  slippers  from  one 
side  to  the  other,  examining  the  marble  Mihrab  and  the  narrow 
and  towering  pulpit,  when  a  ragged  and  decrepit  dervish,  with 
his  papooshes  in  his  hand,  and  his  toes  and  heels  protruding  from 
a  very  dirty  pair  of  stockings,  rose  from  his  prayers  and  began 
walking  backward  and  forward,  eyeing  us  ferociously  and  mutter 
ing  himself  into  quite  a  passion.  His  chanty  for  infidels  was 
evidently  at  a  low  ebb.  Every  step  we  took  upon  the  holy  floor 
seemed  to  add  to  his  fury.  The  kervasscs  observed  him,  but  his 
sugar-loaf  cap  carried  some  respect  with  it,  and  they  evidently 
did  not  like  to  meddle  with  him.  lie  followed  us  to  the  door, 
fixing  his  hollow  gray  eyes  with  a  deadly  glare  upon  each  one  as 
he  went  out,  and  the  Turkish  officers  seemed  rather  glad  to  hurry 
us  out  of  his  way.  He  left  us  in  the  vestibule,  and  we  mounted 
a  handsome  marble  staircase  to  a  suite  of  apartments  above 
communicating  with  the  sultan's  private  gallery.  The  carpets 
here  were  richer,  and  the  divans  with  which  the  half  dozen 
saloons  were  surrounded,  were  covered  with  the  most  costly  stuffs 
of  the  east.  The  gallery  was  divided  from  the  area  of  the 
mosque  by  a  fine  brazen  grating  curiously  wrought,  and  its  centre 
occupied  by  a  rich  ottoman,  whereon  the  imperial  legs  are  crossed 
in  the  intervals  of  his  prostrations.  It  was  about  the  size  and 
had  the  air  altogether  of  a  private  box  at  the  opera. 

We  crossed  the  Golden  Horn,  and  passing  the  eunuch's  guard, 
entered  the  gardens  of  the  seraglio  on  our  way  to  Santa  Sophia. 
An  inner  wall  still  separated  us  from  the  gilded  kiosks,  at  whose 
latticed  windows  peering  above  the  trees,  we  might  have  clearly 
perused  the  features  of  any  peeping  inmate  ;  but  the  little  TOSS- 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  343 


bars  revealed  nothing  but  their  own  provoking  eye  of  the  size  of 
a  rose  leaf  in  the  centre,  and  we  reached  the  upper  gate  without 
even  a  glimpse  of  a  waved  handkerchief  to  stir  our  chivalry  to 
the  rescue. 

A  confused  mass  of  buttresses  without  form  or  order,  is  all 
that  you  are  shown  for  the  exterior  of  that  "  wonder  of  the 
world,"  the  mosque  of  mosques,  the  renowned  Santa  Sophia. 
We  descended  a  dark  avenue,  and  leaving  our  boots  in  a  vestibule 
that  the  horse  of  Mohammed  the  second,  if  he  was  lodged  as 
ambitiously  living  as  dead,  would  have  disdained  for  his  stable, 
we  entered  the  vaulted  area.  A  long  breath  and  an  admission  of 
its  almost  attributable  supernatural  grandeur,  follovr?!  our  too 
hasty  disappointment.  It  is  indeed  a  "  vast  .nil d  wondrous 
dome  !"  Its  dimensions  are  less  than  those  of  St.  Peter's  at 
Home,  but  its  effect,  owing  to  its  unity  and  simplicity  of  design, 
is,  I  think,  superior.  The  numerous  small  galleries  let  into* its 
sides  add  richness  to  it  without  impairing  its  apparent  magnitude, 
and  its  vast  floor,  upon  which  a  single  individual  is  almost  lost, 
the  sombre  colors  of  its  walls  untouched  probably  for  centuries, 
and  the  dim  sepulchral  light  that  struggles  through  the  deep- 
niched  and  retiring  windows,  form  altogether  an  interior  from 
which  the  imagination  returns,  like  the  dove  to  the  ark,  fluttering 
and  bewildered. 

Our  large  party  separated  over  its  wilderness  of  a  floor,  an-i 
each  might  have  had  his  hour  of  solitude,  had  the  once  Christ 
ian  spirit  of  the  spot  (or  the  present  pagan  demon)  affect 
ed  him  religiously.  I  found,  myself,  a  singular  pleasure  in 
wandering  about  upon  the  elastic  mats  (laid  four  or  five 
thick  all  over  the  floor),  examining  here  a  tattered  banner  hung 
against  the  wall,  and  there  a  rich  cashmere  which  had  cover- 


344         SUMMER   CRUISE  IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


ed  the  tomb  of  the  prophet  ;  on  one  side  a  slab  of  transpar 
ent  alabaster  from  the  temple  of  Solomon  (a  strange  relic  for  a 
Mohammedan  mosque  !)  and  on  the  other,  a  dark  Mikrab  sur 
rounded  by  candles  of  incredible  proportions,  looking  like  the 
marble  columns  of  some  friezeless  portico.  The  four  "  six- 
winged  cherubim"  on  the  roof  of  the  dome,  sole  remaining  trace 
as  they  are  of  the  religion  to  which  the  building  was  first  dedi 
cated,  had  better  been  left  to  the  imagination.  They  are 
monstrous  in  Mosaic.  It  is  said  that  the  whole  interior  of  the 
mosque  is  cased  beneath  its  dusky  plaster  with  the  same  costly 
Mosaic  which  covers  the  ceiling.  To  make  a  Mohammedan 
mosque  of  a  Christian  church,  however,  it  was  necessary  to  erase 
Christian  emblems  from  the  walls  ;  besides  which  the  Turks  have 
a  superstitious  horror  of  all  imitative  arts,  considering  the  paint 
ing  of  the  human  features  particularly,  as  a  mockery  of  the 
handiwork  of  Allah. 

\Ve  went  hence  to  the  more  modern  mosque  of  Sultan  Achmet, 
which  is  an  imitation  of  Santa  Sophia  within,  but  its  own  beauti 
ful  prototype  in  exterior.  Its  spacious  and  solemn  court,  its  six 
heaven-piercing  minarets,  its  fountains,  and  the  mausoleums  of  the. 
sultans,  with  their  gilded  cupolas  and  sarcophagi  covered  with 
cashmeres  (the  murdering  sultan  and  his  murdered  brothers 
lying  in  equal  splendor  side-by-side  !),  are  of  a  style  of  richness 
peculiarly  oriental  and  imposing.  We  visited  in  succession 
Sultan  Bajazct,  Sulymanye,  and  Sultana  Valide,  all  of  the  same 
;uabesquo  exterior,  and  very  similar  within.  The  description  of 
one  leaves  little  to  be  said  of  the  other,  and,  with  the  exception 
of  Santa  Sophia,  of  which  I  should  like  to  make  a  lounge  when 
I  am  in  love  with  my  own  company,  the  mosques  of  Constanti 
nople  are  a  kind  of  u  lion"  well  killed  in  a  single  visit 


LETTER    XLI. 

Unerrng  Detection  of  Foreigners— A  Cargo  of  Odalisques— The  Fanar,  or  Quarter  of  the 
Greeks— Street  of  the  Booksellers— Aspect  of  Antiquity— Purchases— Charity  for  Dogs 
and  Pigeons — Punishment  of  Cauicide — A  Bridal  Procession —Turkish  Female  Physiog 
nomy. 

PULLING  up  the  Golden  Horn  to-day  in  a  caique  without  any 
definite  errand  (a  sort  of  excursion  particularly  after  my  own 
heart),  I  was  amused  at  the  caikjee's  asking  my  companion,  who 
shaves  clean  like  a  Christian,  and  has  his  clothes  from  Regent 
street,  and  looks  for  aught  I  can  see,  as  much  like  a  foreigner  in 
Constantinople  as  myself,  "  in  what  vessel  I  had  arrived."  We 
asked  him  if  he  had  ever  seen  either  of  us  before.  "  No'!" 
How  then  did  be  know  that  my  friend,  who  had  not  hitherto 
spoken  a  word  of  Turkish ,  was  not  as  lately  arrived  as  myself  ? 
What  is  it  that  so  infallibly,  in  every  part  of  the  world,  distin 
guishes  Ike  stranger  1 

We  passed  under  the  stern  of  an  outlandish-looking  vessel  just 
dropping  her  anchor.  Her  deck  was  crowded  with  men  and 
women  in  singular  costumes,  and  near  the  helm,  apparently  under 
the  protection  of  a  dark-visaged  fellow  in  a  voluminous  turban, 
stood  three  young,  and,  as  well  as  we  could  see,  uncommonly 
15* 


346         SUMMER   CRUISE   IN   THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 


pretty  girls.  The  captaiu  answered  to  our  hail  that  he  was  from 
Trebizond,  and  his  passengers  were  slaves  for  the  bazar.  How 
redolent  of  the  east  !  Were  one  but  a  Turk,  now,  to  forestall 
the  market  and  barter  for  a  pair  of  those  dark  eyes  while  they 
are  still  full  of  surprise  and  innocence  ! 

We  landed  at  the  Fanar.  Bow-windows  crowded  with  fair 
faces,  in  enormous  pink  turbans,  naked  shoulders  (which  I  am 
already  so  orientalized  as  to  think  very  indecent),  puffed  curls 
and  pinched  waists,  reminded  us  at  every  step  that  we  were  iu  a 
Christian  quarter  of  Constantinople.  From  this  paltry  and  mis 
erable  suburb,  spring  the  modern  princes  of  Greece,  the  Mavro- 
cordatos,  and  Ghikas,  the  Hospodars  of  Wallachia  and  Moldavia, 
the  subtle,  insinuating,  intriguing,  but  talented  and  ever-success 
ful  Fanariotes.  One  hears  so  much  of  them  in  Europe,  and  so 
much  is  made  of  a  stray  scion  from  the  very  far-traced  root  of 
Paloeologus  or  some  equally  boasted  blood  of  the  Fanar  (J  mot  a 
Fanrriote  princess  G —  at  the  baths  of  Lucca  last  year,  whom  I 
except  from  every  disparaging  remark),  that  he  is  a  little  disap 
pointed  with  the  dirty  alleys  and  the  stuffed  windows  shown  him 
as  the  hereditary  homes  of  these  very  sounding  names.  There 
arc  a  hundred  families  at  least  in  the  Fanar,  that  trace  their 
origin  back  to  no  less  than  an  imperial  stock,  and  there  is  not  a 
house  in  the  whole  quarter  that  would  pass  in  our  country  for  a 
i-i  sp"ctable  barn.  In  personal  appearance  they  are  certainly 
veiy  inferior  to  any  other  race  of  their  own  nation.  The  Alba 
nians  and  the  Greeks  I  saw  at  Napoli  and  in  the  Morea,  vve.o 
(except  the  North  American  Indians)  the  finest  pe'6ple,  physi 
cally,  I  have  ever  been  among  ;  while  it  would  be  difficult  to  find 
a  more  diminutive  and  degenerate-looking  body  of  men  and 
women,  than  swarm  in  this  nest  of  Grecian  princes. 


ON  BOARD   AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  347 


We  re-entered  our  little  bark,  and  gliding  along  leisurely 
through  the  crowd  of  piades,  kachamlas,  and  caiques,  landed  at 
Stamboul,  and  walked  on  toward  the  bazar.  Always  discover 
ing  new  passages  in  that  labyrinth  of  shops,  we  found  ourselves 
after  an  hour's  rambling,  in  a  long  street  of  booksellers.  This  is 
rather  the  oldest  and  narrowest  part  of  the  bazar,  and  the  light 
of  heaven  meets  with  i;;e  additional  interruption  of  two  rows  of 
pillars  with  arched  friezes  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 
On  entering  the  literary  twilight  of  the  passage  in  the  rear  of 
these  columns,  the  classic  nostril  detects  instantly  the  genuine 
odor  of  manuscript,  black-letter,  and  ancient  binding ;  and  tho 
trained  eye,  accustomed  to  the  dim  niches  of  libraries,  wanders 
over  the  well-piled  shelves  with  their  quaint  rows  of  volumes  in 
vellum,  and  appreciates  at  once  their  varied  riches.  Here  is 
nothing  of  the  complexion  of  a  shelf  at  the  Harpers',  or  the 
Hendees',  or  the  Careys' — no  fresh  and  uncut  novel,  no  new-born 
poem,  no  political  pamphlet  or  gay  souvenir  !  And  the  priceless 
treasures  of  learning  are  not  here  doled  out  by  a  talkative  pub 
lisher  or  dapper  clerk,  skilled  only  in  the  lettered  backs  of  llie 
volumes  he  barters.  But  in  sombre  and  uneven  rows,  or  laid  in 
heaps,  whose  order  is  not  in  their  similarity  of  binding,  but  in 
the  correspondence  of  their  contents,  lie  venerable  and  much- 
thumbed  tomes  of  Arabic  or  Persian  ;  while  the  venerable 
bibliopole,  seated  motionless  on  his  hams,  with  his  gray  beard 
reaching  to  his  crossed  slippers,  peruses  an  illuminated  volume 
of  Hafiz,  lifting  his  eyes  from  the  page  only  to  revolve  some 
sweet  image  in  his  mind,  and  murmur  a  low  "  pekke  !"  of  appro 
bation. 

We  had  stepped  back  into  the  last  century.  Here  was  the 
calamus  still  in  use.  The  small,  brown  reed,  not  yet  superseded 


348         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN 


by  the  more  useful  but  less  classic  quill  y  stood  in  every  clotted 
inkstand,  and  nothing  less  than  the  purchase  of  a  whole  scrivener's 
furniture,  from  a  bearded  bookworm,  whose  benevolent  face  took 
my  fancy,  would  suffice  my  enthusiasm.  Not  to  waste  all  our 
oriental  experience  at  a  single  stall,  we  strolled  farther  on  to  buy 
an  illuminated  Hafiz.  We  stopped  simultaneously  before  an  old 
Armenian  who  seemed,  by  his  rusty  calpack  and  shabby  robe,  to 
be  something  poorer  than  even  his  plainly-clad  neighbors  ;  for  in 
Turkey,  as  elsewhere,  he  who  lives  in  a  world  of  his  own,  has  but 
a  slender  portion  in  that  of  the  vulgar.  A  choice-looking  volume 
lay  open  upon  one  of  the  old  man's  knees,  while  from  a  wooden 
bowl  he  was  eating  hastily  a  pottage  of  rice.  His  meal  was  evi 
dently  an  interruption.  He  had  not  even  laid  aside  his  book. 

There  was  something  in  his  handling  the  volume,  as  he  took 
down  a  pocket-sized  Hafiz,  that  showed  an  affection  for  the 
author.  He  turned  it  over  with  a  slight  dilation  of  countenance, 
and  opening  it  with  a  careful  thumb,  read  a  line  in  mellifluous 
Persian.  I  took  it  from  him  open  at  the  place,  and  marked  the 
passage  with  my  nail,  to  look  for  it  in  the  translation. 

With  my  cheaply-bought  treasures  in  my  pockets,  we  turned 
up  the  street  of  the  diamond  merchants,  and  making  a  single 
purchase  more  in  the  bazar,  of  a  teslih  or  Turkish  rosary  of  spice- 
wood,  emerged  to  the  open  air  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  mosque 
of  Sultan  Bajazet. 

Whether  slipping  the  pagan  beads  through  my  fingers  affected 
me  devoutly,  or  whether  it  was  the  mellow  humor  of  the  moment, 
I  felt  a  disposition  to  forgive  my  enemies,  and  indulge  in  an  act 
of  Mohammedan  piety — feeding  the  unowned  dogs  of  the  street. 
We  stepped  into  a  baker's  shop,  and  laid  out  a  piastre  in  bread, 
and  were  immediately  observed  and  surrounded,  before  we  could 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  349 


break  a  loaf,  by  twenty  or  thirty  as  ill-looking  curs,  as  ever 
howled  to  the  moon.  Having  distributed  about  a  dozen  loaves, 
and  finding  that  our  largess  had  by  no  means  satisfied  the  ap 
petites  of  the  expecting  rabble,  we  found  ourselves  embarrassed 
to  escape.  Nothing  but  the  baker's  threshold  prevented  them 
from  jumping  upon  us,  in  their  eagerness,  and  the  array  of  so 
many  formidable  mouths,  ferocious  with  hunger,  was  rather  stag 
gering.  The  baker  drew  off  the  hungry  pack  at  last,  by  walking 
round  the  corner  with  a  loaf  in  his  hand,  while  we  made  a  speedy 
exit,  patted  on  the  back  in  passing  by  several  of  the  assembled 
spectators. 

It  is  surprising  that  the  Turks  can  tolerate  this  filthy  breed  of 
curs,  in  such  extraordinary  numbers.  They  have  a  whimsical 
punishment  for  killing  one  of  them.  The  dead  dog  is  hung  by 
his  heels,  so  that  his  nose  just  touches  the  ground,  and  the  cani- 
cide  is  compelled  to  heap  wheat  about  him,  till  he  is  entirely 
covered  ;  the  wheat  is  then  given  to  the  poor,  and  the.  dog  buried 
at  the  expense  of  the  culprit.  There  are,  probably,  five  dogs  to 
every  man  in  Constantinople,  and  besides  their  incessant  barking, 
they  often  endanger  the  lives  of  children  and  strangers.  Mac- 
Farlane,  I  think,  tells  the  story  of  a  drunken  sea-captain,  who 
was  entirely  devoured  by  the  dogs  at  Tophana  ;  nothing  being 
found  of  him  in  the  morning  but  his  u  indigestible  pig-tail  !" 

We  entered  the  court  of  Sultan  Bajazet,  and  found  the  ma 
jestic  plane-trees  that  shadow  its  arabesque  fountains,  bonding 
beneath  the  weight  of  hundreds  of  pensionary  pigeons.  Here,  as 
at  several  of  the  mosques,  an  old  man  sits  by  the  gate,  whose 
business  it  is  to  expend  the  alms  given  him  in  distributing  grain 
to  these  sacred  birds.  Not  to  be  outdone  in  piety,  my  friend 
gave  the  blind  Turk  a  piastre  ;  and,  as  he  arose  and  unlocked 


350        SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

the  box  beneath  him,  the  pigeons  descended  about  us  in  such  a 
cloud,  as  literally  to  darken  the  air.  Handful  after  handful  waf 
then  thrown  among  them,  and  the  beautiful  creatures  ran  over 
our  feet  and  fluttered  round  us  with  a  fearlessness  that  sufficiently 
proved  the  safety  in  which  they  haunted  the  sacred  precincts. 
Jn  a  few  minutes  they  soared  altogether  again  to  the  trees,  and 
their  mussulman-feeder  resumed  his  seat  upon  the  box  to  wait  for 
another  charity. 

A  crowd  of  women  at  the  harem  gate,  in  the  rear  of  tho«seras- 
kier's  palace,  attracted  our  attention.  Upon  inquiry,  we  found 
that  he  had  married  a  daughter  to  one  of  the  sultan's  military 
officers,  and  the  bridal  party  was  expected  presently  to  come  out 
in  arubaks,  and  make  the  tour  of  the  Hippodrome,  on  the  way  to 
the  house  of  the  bridegroom.  We  wiled  away  an  hour  returning 
the  gaze  of  curiosity  bent  upon  us  from  the  idle  and  bright  eyes 
of  a  hundred  women,  and  the  first  of  the  gilded  vehicles  made  its 
appearance  ;  though  in  the  same  style  of  ornament  with  the  one 
I  have  already  described,  it  differed  in  being  drawn  by  horses, 
and  having  a  frame  top,  with  small  round  mirrors  set  in  the 
corners.  Within  sat  four  very  young  women,  one  of  whom  was 
the  bride  ;  but  which,  we  found  no  one  who  could  tell  us.  It  is 
no  description  of  a  face  in  the  east  to  say,  that  the  eyes  were 
dark,  and  the  nose  regular — all  that  the  jealous  yashmack  per 
mitted  us  to  ascertain  of  the  beauty  of  the  bride.  Their  eyes  are 
all  dark,  and  their  noses  are  all  regular ;  the  Turkish  nose  differ 
ing  from  the  Grecian,  as  that  of  the  Antinous  from  i/ue  Apollo, 
only  in  its  more  voluptuous  fullness,  and  a  nostril  less  dilated. 
Four  darker  pairs  of  eyes,  however,  and  four  brows  of  whiter  orb, 
never  pined  in  a  harem,  or  were  reflected  in  those  golden-rimmed 
mirrors  ;  and  as  the  twelve  succeeding  arubas  rattled  by,  and  in 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  351 


each  suit  four  young  women,  with  the  same  eternal  dark  eyes, 
"  full  of  sleep,"  and  the  same  curved  and  pearly  forehead,  and 
noses  like  the  Antinous,  I  thought  of  toujours  perdriXj  and  felt 
that  if  there  had  been  but  one  with  a  slight  toss  in  that  promi 
nent  member,  it  would  not  have  been  displeasing. 

In  a  conversation  with  a  Greek  lady  the  other  day,  she  re 
marked  that  the  veils  of  the  Turkish  ladies  conceal  no  charms. 
Their  mouths,  she  says,  are  generally  coarse,  and  their  teeth, 
from  the  immoderate  use  of  sweetmeats,  or  neglect,  or  some  other 
cause,  almost  universally  defective.  How  far  the  interest  excited 
by  these  hidden  features  may  have  jaundiced  the  eyes  of  my  fair 
informer,  I  can  not  say  ;  but  as  a  general  fact,  uneducated  wo 
men,  whatever  other  beauties  they  may  possess,  have  rarely  ex 
pressive  or  agreeable  mouths.  Nature  forms  and  colors  the  nose, 
the  eyes,  the  forehead,  and  the  complexion;  but  the  character, 
from  the  cradle  up,  moulds  gradually  to  its  own  inward  changes, 
the  plastic  and  passion-breathing  lines  of  the  lips.  Allowing  this, 
it  would  be  rather  surprising  if  there  was  a  mouth  in  all  Turkey 
that  had  more  than  a  pretty  silliness  at  the  most — the  art  of  dye 
ing  their  finger  nails,  and  painting  their  eyebrows,  being  the 
highest  branches  of  female  education.  How  they  came  by  these 
"  eyes  that  teach  us  what  the  sun  is  made  of,"  the  vales  of 
Georgia  and  Circassia  best  can  tell. 

And  so  having  rambled  away  a  sunny  autumn  day,  and  earned 
some  little  appetite,  if  not  experience,  we  will  get  out  of  Stam- 
boul,  before  the  sunset  guard  makes  us  prisoners,  and  climb  up 
to  our  dinner  in  Pera. 


LETTER    XLII, 

The  Perfection  of  Bathing— Pipes -Downy  Cushions— Coffee— Eubbing  Down— "  Circu 
lar  Justice,"  as  displayed  in  the  Retribution  of  Boiled  Lobsters— A  Deluge  of  Suds— Tho 
Shampoo— Luxurious  Helps  to  the  Imagination — A  Pedestrian  Excursion — Story  of  an 
American  Tar,  burdened  with  Small  Change — Beauty  of  the  Turkish  Children — A 
Civilized  Monster— Glimpse  of  Sultan  Mahmoud  in  an  Ill-Humor. 

"TIME  is  (not)  money"  in  the  east.  We  were  three  hours 
to-day  at  the  principal  bath  of  Constantinople,  going  through  the 
ordinary  process  of  the  establishment,  and  were  out-stayed,  at 
last,  by  two  Turkish  officers  who  had  entered  with  us.  During 
this  time,  we  had  each  the  assiduous  service  of  an  attendant,  and 
coffee,  lemonade  and  pipes  ad  libitum,  for  the  consideration  of 
half  a  Spanish  dollar. 

Although  I  have  once  described  a  Turkish  bath,  the  metro 
politan  "  pomp  and  circumstance"  so  far  exceed  the  provincial  in 
this  luxury,  that  I  think  I  shall  be  excused  for  dwelling  a  mo 
ment  upon  it  again.  The  dressing-room  opens  at  once  from  the 
street.  We  descended  half  a  dozen  steps  to  a  stone  floor,  in  the 
centre  of  which  stood  a  large  marble  fountain.  Its  basin  was  kept 
full  by  several  jets  d'eau,  which  threw  their  silver  curves  into  the 
air,  and  the  edge  was  set  round  with  narghiles  (or  Persian  water- 
pipes  with  glass  vases),  ready  for  the  smokers  of  the  mild  tobacco 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  353 


of  Shiraz.  The  ceiling  of  this  large  hall  was  lofty,  and  the  sides 
were  encircled  by  three  galleries,  one  above  the  other,  with  open 
balustrades,  within  which  the  bathers  undressed.  In  a  corner 
sat  several  attendants,  with  only  a  napkin  around  their  waists, 
smoking  till  their  services  should  be  required  ;  and  one  who  had 
just  come  from  the  inner  bath,  streaming  with  perspiration,  cov 
ered  himself  with  cloths,  and  lay  crouched  upon  a  carpet  till  he 
could  bear,  with  safety,  the  temperature  of  the  outer  air. 

A  half- naked  Turk,  without  his  turban,  looks  more  a  Mephis- 
topheles  than  a  Ganymede,  and  I  could  scarce  forbear  shrinking 
as  this  shaven-headed  troop  of  servitors  seized  upon  us,  and, 
without  a  word,  pulled  off  our  boots,  thrust  our  feet  into  slippers, 
and  led  us  up  into  the  gallery  to  undress.  An  ottoman,  piled 
with  cushions,  and  overhung,  on  the  wall,  by  a  small  mirror,  was 
allotted  to  each,  and  with  the  assistance  of  my  familiar  (who  was 
quite  too  familiar  !)  I  found  myself  stripped,  nolens  vohns,  and  a 
snowy  napkin,  with  a  gold  embroidered  edge,  twisted  into  a  be 
coming  turban  around  my  head. 

We  were  led  immediately  into  the  first  bath,  a  small  room,  in 
which  the  heat,  for  the  first  breath  or  two,  seemed  rather  oppres 
sive.  Carpets  were  spread  for  us  on  the  warm  marble  floor,  and 
crossing  our  legs,  with  more  ease  than  when  cased  in  our  un- 
oriental  pantaloons,  we  were  served  with  pipes  and  coffee  of  a 
delicious  flavor. 

After  a  half  hour,  the  atmosphere,  so  warm  when  we  entered, 
began  to  feel  chilly,  and  we  were  taken  by  the  arm,  and  led  by 
our  speechless  mussulman,  through  an  intermediate  room,  into 
the  grand  bath.  The  heat  here  seemed  to  me,  for  a  moment, 
almost  intolerable.  The  floor  was  hot,  and  the  air  so  moist  with 
the  suffocating  vapor,  as  to  rest  like  mist  upon  the  skin.  It  was 


354          SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


a  spacious  and  vaulted  room,  with,  perhaps,  fifty  small  square 
windows  in  the  dome,  and  four  arched  recesses  in  the  sides,  sup 
plied  with  marble  seats,  and  small  reservoirs  of  hot  and  cold 
water.  In  the  centre  was  a  broad  platform,  on  which  the  bather 
was  rubbed  and  shampooed,  occupied,  just  then,  by  two  or  three 
dark-skinned  Turks,  lying  on  their  backs,  with  their  eyes  shut, 
dreaming,  if  one  might  judge  by  their  countenances,  of  Paradise. 

After  being  left  to  walk  about  for  half  an  hour,  by  this  time 
bathed  in  perspiration,  our  respective  demons  seized  upon  us 
again,  and  led  us  to  the  marble  seats  in  the  recesses.  Putting 
a  rough  mitten  on  the  right  hand,  my  Turk  then  commenced  upon 
my  breast,  scouring  me,  without  water  or  mercy,  from  head  to 
foot,  and  turning  me  over  on  my  face  or  my  back,  without  the 
least  "  by-your-leave"  expression  in  his  countenance,  and  with 
an  adroitness  which,  in  spite  of  the  novelty  of  my  situation,  I 
could  not  but-admirc.  I  hardly  knew  whether  the  sensation  was 
pleasurable  or  painful.  I  was  less  in  doubt  presently,  when  he 
seated  me  upright,  and,  with  the  brazen  cup  of  the  fountain, 
dashed  upon  my  peeled  shoulders  a  quantity  of  half  boiling  water. 
If  what  Barnacle,  in  the  play,  calls  "  a  circular  justice,"  existed 
in  the  world,  I  should  have  thought  it  a  judgment  for  eating  of 
lobsters.  My  familiar  was  somewhat  startled  at  the  suddenness 
Mi  whi^h  I  sprang  upon  my  feet,  and,  turning  some  cold  water 
iisto  the  reservoir,  laid  his  hand  on  his  breast,  "and  looked  an 
apology.  The  scalding  was  only  momentary,  and  the  qualified 
contents  of  the  succeeding  cups  highly  grateful. 

We  were  left  again,  for  a  while,  to  our  reflections,  and  then 
reappeared  our  attendants,  with  large  bowls  of  the  suds  of  scented 
soap,  and  small  bunches  of  soft  Angora  wool.  With  this  we  were 
tenderly  washed,  and  those  of  my  companions  who  wished  it  were 


ON   BOARD  AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  355 


shaved.  The  last  operation  they  described  as  peculiarly  agreea 
ble,  both  from  the  softened  state  of  the  skin  and  dexterity  of  the 
operators. 

Rinsed  once  more  with  warm  water,  our  snowy  turbans  were 
twisted  around  our  heads  again,  cloths  were  tied  about  our  waists, 
and  we  returned  to  the  second  room.  The  transition  from  the 
excessive  heat  within,  made  the  air,  that  we  had  found  oppressive 
when  we  entered,  seem  disagreeably  chilly.  We  wrapped  our 
selves  in  our  long  cloths,  and,  resuming  our  carpets,  took  coffee 
and  pipes  as  before.  In  a  few  minutes  we  began  to  feel  a  delight 
ful  glow  in  our  veins,  and  then  our  cloths  became  unpleasantly 
warm,  and,  by  the  time  we  were  taken  back  to  the  dressing-room , 
its  cold  air  was  a  relief.  They  led  us  to  the  ottomans,  and, 
piling  the  cushions  so  as  to  form  a  curve,  laid  us  upon  them, 
covered  with  clean  white  cloths,  and  bringing  us  sherbets,  lemon 
ade,  and  pipes,  dropped  upon  their  knees,  and  commenced  press 
ing  our  limbs  all  over  gently  with  their  hands.  My  sensations 
during  the  half  hour  that  we  lay  here  were  indescribably  agreea 
ble.  I  felt  an  absolute  repose  of  body,  a  calm,  half-sleepy  languor 
in  my  whole  frame,  and  a  tranquillity  of  mind,  which,  from  the 
busy  character  of  the  scenes  in  which  I  was  daily  conversant, 
were  equally  unusual  and  pleasurable.  Scarce  stirring  a  muscle 
or  a  nerve,  I  lay  the  whole  hour,  gazing  on  the  lofty  ceiling,  and 
listening  to  the  murmur  of  the  fountain,  while  my  silent  familiar 
pressed  my  limbs  with  a  touch  as  gentle  as  a  child's,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  as  if  pleasure  was  breathing  from  every  pore  of  my 
cleansed  and  softened  skin.  I  could  willingly  have  passed  the 
remainder  of  the  day  upon  the  luxurious  couch,  I  wonder  less 
than  ever  at  the  flowery  and  poetical  character  of  the  oriental 
literature,  whe.^e  the  mind  is  subjected  to  influences  so  refining 


356          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


and  exhilarating.  One  could  hardly  fail  to  grow  a  poet,  I  should 
think,  even  with  this  habit  of  eastern  luxury  alone.  If  I  am  to 
conceive  a  romance,  or  to  indite  an  epithalamium,  send  me  to 
the  bath  on  a  day  of  idleness,  and,  covering  me  up  with  their 
snowy  and  lavendered  napkins,  leave  me  till  sunset ! 


"With  a  dinner  in  prospect  at  a  friend's  house,  six  or  eight 
miles  up  the  Bosphorus,  we  started  in  the  morning  on  foot,  with 
the  intention  of  seeing  Sultan  Mahmoud  go  to  mosque,  by  the 
way.  We  stopped  a  moment  to  look  into  the  marble  pavilion, 
containing  the  clocks  of  the  mosque  of  Tophana,  and  drank  at 
the  opposite  pavilion,  from  the  brass  cup  chained  in  the  window, 
and  supplied  constantly  from  the  fountain  within,  and  then  kept 
on  through  the  long  street  to  the  first  village  of  Dolma-baktchi, 
or  the  Garden  of  Gourds. 

Determined,  with  the  day  before  us,  to  yield  to  every  temptation 
on  the  road,  we  entered  a  small  cafe,  overlooking  a  segment  of 
the  Bosphorus,  and  while  the  acorn-sized  cups  were  simmering  on 
the  manghal,  my  friend  entered  into  conversation  in  Arabic,  with 
a  tawny  old  Egyptian,  who  sat  smoking  in  the  corner.  He  was  a 
fine  specimen  of  the  "  responsible-looking"  oriental,  and  had 
lately  arrived  from  Alexandria  on  business.  Pleasant  land  of 
the  east  !  where,  to  be  the  pink  of  courtesy,  you  must  pass  your 
snuff-box,  or  your  tobacco-pouch  to  the  stranger,  and  ask  him 
those  questions  of  his  "whereabouts,"  so  impertinent  in  more 
civilized  Europe  ! 

After  a  brief  dialogue,  which  was  Hebrew  to  me,  our  Alexan 
drian,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  commenced  a  narration 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  35? 


with  a  great  deal  of  expressive  gesture,  at  which  my  friend 
seemed  very  provokingly  amused.  I  sipped  my  coffee,  and 
wondered  what  could  have  led  one  of  these  silent  gray-beards 
into  an  amusing  story,  till  a  pause  gave  me  an  opportunity  to 
ask  a  translation.  Hearing  that  we  were  Americans,  the 
Egyptian  had  begun  by  asking  whether  there  was  a  superstition 
in  our  country  against  receiving  back  money  in  change.  He 
explained  his  question  by  saying  that  he  was  in  a  c#/e,  at 
Tophana,  when  a  boat's  crew,  from  the  American  frigate,  waiting 
for  some  one  at  the  landing,  entered,  and  asked  for  coffee.  They 
drank  it  very  quietly,  and  one  of  them  gave  the  'caffjee  a  dollar, 
receiving  in  chancre  a  hair.Jfnl  of  the  shabby  and  adulterated 
money  of  Constantinople.  Jack  was  rather  surprised  at  getting 
a  dozen  cups  of  coffee,  and  so  much  coin  for  his  dollar,  and 
requested  the  boy,  by  signs,  to  treat  the  company  at  his  expense. 
This  was  done,  the  Turks  all  acknowledging  the  courtesy  by 
laying  their  hands  upon  their  foreheads  and  breast,  and  still 
Jack's  money  lay  heavy  in  his  hands.  He  called  for  pipes,  and 
they  smoked  awhile  ;  but  finding  still  that  his  riches  were  not 
perceptibly  diminished,  he  hitched  up  his  trousers,  arid  with  a 
dexterous  flirt,  threw  his  piastres  and  pares  all  round  upon  the 
company,  and  rolled  out  of  the  cafe.  From  the  gravity  of  the 
other  sailors  at  this  remarkable  flourish,  the  old  Egyptian  and 
his  fellow  cross-legs  had  imagined  it  to  be  a  national  custom  ! 

Idling  along  through  the  next  village,  we  turned  to  admire  a 
Turkish  child,  led  by  an  Abyssinian  slave.  There  is  no  country 
in  the  world  where  the  children  are  so  beautiful,  and  this  was  a 
cherub  of  a  boy,  like  one  of  Domenichino's  angels.  As  we 
stopped  to  look  at  him,  the  little  fellow  commenced  crying  most 
lustily. 


£58        SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


"  Hush  !  my  rose  !"  said  the  Abyssinian,  "  these  are  good 
Franks  !  these  are  not  the  Franks  that  eat  children !  hush  !" 

It  certainly  takes  the  nonsense  out  of  one  to  travel.  I  should 
never  have  thought  it  possible,  if  I  had  not  been  in  Turkey,  that 
I  could  be  made  a  bugbear  to  scare  a  child  ! 

We  passed  the  tomb  of  Frederick  Barbarossa,  getting  between 
the  walls  of  the  palaces  on  the  water's  edge,  continual  and 
incomparable  views  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  arrived  at  Beshiktash 
(or  the  marble  cradle),  just  as  the  troops  were  drawn  up  to  the 
door  of  the  mosque.  We  took  our  stand  under  a  plane-tree,  in 
the  midst  of  a  Crowd  of  women,  and  presently  the  noisy  band 
struck  up  the  sultan's  march,  and  the  led  horses  appeared  in 
sight.  They  came  on  with  their  grooms  and  their  rich  housings, 
a  dozen  matchless  Arabians,  scarce  touching  the  ground  with 
their  prancings  !  Oh,  how  beautiful  they  were  !  Their  delicate 
limbs,  their  small,  veined  heads  and  fiery  nostrils,  their  glowing, 
intelligent  eyes,  their  quick,  light,  bounding  action,  their  round 
bodies,  trembling  with  restrained  and  impatient  energy,  their 
curved,  haughty  necks,  and  dark  manes  flowing  wildly  in  tho 
wind  !  El  Borak,  the  mare  of  the  prophet,  with  the  wings  of  a 
bird,  was  not  lighter  or  more  beautiful. 

The  sultan  followed,  preceded  by  his  principal  officers,  with  a 
stirrup-holder  running  at  each  side,  and  mounted  on  a  tame- 
looking  Hungarian  horse.  He  wore  the  red  Fez  cap,  and  a 
cream-colored  cloak,  which  covered  his  horse  to  the  tail.  His 
face  was  lowering,  his  firm,  powerful  jaw,  set  in  an  expression  of 
fixed  displeasure,  and  his  far-famed  eye  had  a  fierceness  witLin  its 
dark  socket,  from  which  I  involuntarily  shrank.  The  women,  as . 
he  came  along,  set  up  a  kind  of  howl,  according  to  their  custom, 
but  he  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  left,  and  seemed  totally 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE,  359 


unconscious  of  any  one's  existence  but  his  own.  He  was  quite 
another-looking  man  from  the  Mahmoud  I  had  seen  smiling  in  his 
handja-bash  on  the  Bosphorus. 

As  he  dismounted  and  entered  the  mosque,  we  went  on  our 
way,  moralizing  sagely  on  the  novel  subject  of  human  happiness — 
our  text,  the  cloud  on  the  brow  of  a  sultan,  and  the  quiet  sun 
shine  in  the  bosoms  of  two  poor  pedestrians  by  the  way-side. 


LETTER   XLIII, 

Punishment  of  Conjugal  Infidelity — Drowning  in  the  Bosphorus—  Frequency  of  its 
occurrence  accounted  for — A  Band  of  Wild  Eoumeliotes — Their  Picturesque  Appear 
ance—  Ali  Pacha,  of  Yanina— A  Turkish  Funeral— Fat  Widow  of  Sultan  Selim— A. 
Visit  to  the  Sultan's  Summer  Palaca— A  Travelling  Moslem— Unexpected  Token  of 
Home. 

A  TURKISH  woman  was  sacked  and  thrown  into  the  Bosphorus 
this  morning.  I  was  idling  away  the  day  in  the  bazar  and  did 
not  see  her.  The  ward-room  steward  of  the  u  United  States," 
a  very  intelligent  man,  who  was  at  the  pier  when  she  was  brought 
down  to  the  caique,  describes  her  as  a  young  woman  of  twenty- 
two  or  three  years,  strikingly  beautiful ;  and  with  the  exception 
of  a  short  quick  sob  in  her  throat,  as  if  she  had  wearied  herself 
out  with  weeping,  she  was  quite  cairn  and  submitted  composedly 
to  her  fate.  She  was  led  down  by  two  soldiers,  in  her  usual 
dress,  her  yashmack  only  torn  from  her  face,  and  rowed  off  to  the 
mouth  of  the  bay,  where  the  sack  was  drawn  over  her  without 
resistance.  The  plash  of  her  body  in  the  sea  was  distinctly  seen 
by  the  crowd  who  had  followed  her  to  the  water. 

It  is  horrible  to  reflect  on  these  summary  executions,  knowing 
as  we  do,  that  the  poor  victim  is  taken  before  the  judge,  upon 
the  least  jealous  whim  of  her  husband  or  master,  condemned 
often  upon  bare  suspicion,  and  hurried  instantly  from  the  tribunal 


SUMMER   CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.         361 


lo  this  violent  and  revolting  death.  Any  suspicion  of  commerce 
with  a  Christian  particularly,  is,  with  or  without  evidence,  instant 
ruin.  Not  long  ago,  the  inhabitants  of  Arnaout-keni,  a  pretty 
village  on  the  Bosphorus,  were  shocked  with  the  spectacle  of  a 
Turkish  woman  and  a  young  Greek,  hanging  dead  from  the 
shutters  of  a  window  on  the  water's  side.  He  had  been  detected 
in  leaving  her  house  at  daybreak,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  the 
unfortunate  lovers  had  met  their  fate.  They  are  said  to  have 
died  most  heroically,  embracing  and  declaring  their  attachment 
to  the  last. 

Such  tragedies  occur  every  week  or  two  in  Constantinople,  and 
it  is  not  wonderful,  considering  the  superiority  of  the  educated 
and  picturesque  Greek  to  his  brutal  neighbor,  or  the  daring  and 
romance  of  Europeans  in  the  pursuit  of  forbidden  happiness. 
The  liberty  of  going  and  coming,  which  the  Turkish  women 
enjoy,  wrapped  only  in  veils,  which  assist  by  their  secrecy,  is 
temptingly  favorable  to  intrigue,  and  the  self-sacrificing  nature 
of  the  sex,  when  the  heart  is  concerned,  shows  itself  here  in 
proportion  to  the  demand  for  it. 

An  eminent  physician,  who  attends  the  seraglio  of  the  sultan's 
sister,  consisting  of  a  great  number  of  women,  tells  me  that 
their  time  is  principally  occupied  in  sentimental  correspondence, 
by  means  of  flowers,  with  the  forbidden  Greeks  and  Armenians. 
These  platonic  passions  for  persons  whom  they  have  only  seen 
from  their  gilded  lattices,  are  their  only  amusement,  and  they 
are  permitted  by  the  sultana,  who  has  herself  the  reputation  of 
being  partial  to  Franks,  and  old  as  she  is,  ingenious  in  contri 
vances  to  obtain  their  society.  My  intelligent  informant  thinks 
the  Turkish  women,  in  spite  of  their  want  of  education,  somewhat 

remarkable  for  their  sentiment  of  character. 
16 


362         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


With  two  English  travellers,  whom  I  had  known  in  Italy,  I 
pulled  out  of  the  bay  in  a  caique,  and  ran  down  under  the  wall 
of  the  city,  on  the  side  of  the  sea  of  Marmora.  For  a  mile  or 
more  we  were  beneath  the  wall  of  the  seraglio,  whose  small 
water-gates,  whence  so  many  victims  have  found 

"  Their  way  to  Marmora  without  a  boat," 

are  beset,  to  the  imaginative  eye  of  the  traveller,  with  the 
dramatis  persona  of  a  thousand  tragedies.  One  smiles  to  detect 
himself  gazing  on  an  old  postern,  with  his  teeth  shut  hard 
together,  and  his  hair  on  end,  in  the  calm  of  a  pure,  silent,  sun 
shiny  morning  of  September  ! 

We  landed  some  seven  miles  below,  at  the  Seven  Towers,  and 
dismissed  our  boat  to  walk  across  to  the  Golden  Horn.  Our 
road  was  outside  of  the  triple  walls  of  Stamboul,  whose  two 
hundred  and  fifty  towers  look  as  if  they  were  toppling  after  an 
earthquake,  and  are  overgrown  superbly  with  ivy.  Large  trees, 
rooted  in  the  crevices,  and  gradually  bursting  the  thick  walls, 
overshadow  entirely  their  once  proud  turrets,  and  for  the  whole 
length  of  the  five  or  six  miles  across,  it  is  one  splendid  picture 
of  decay.  I  have  seen  in  no  country  such  beautiful  ruins. 

At  the  Adrianople  gate,  we  found  a  largo  troop  of  horsemen, 
armed  in  the  wild  manner  of  the  east,  who  had  accompanied  a 
Koumeliote  chief  from  the  mountains.  They  were  not  allowed  to 
enter  the  city,  and,  with  their  horses  picketed  on  the  plain,  were 
lying  about  in  groups,  waiting  till  their  leader  should  conclude 
his  audience  with  the  seraskier.  They  were  as  cut-throat  looking 
a  set  as  a  painter  would  wish  to  see.  The  extreme  richness  of 
eastern  arms,  mounted  showily  in  silver,  and  of  shapes  so 
cumbersome,  yet  picturesque,  contrasted  strangely  with  their 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  353 

>^gged  capotes,  and  torn  leggins,  and  their  way-worn  and  weary 
countenances.  Yet  they  were  almost  without  exception  fine- 
featured,  and  of  a  resolute  expression  of  face,  and  they  had 
flung  themselves,  as  savages  will,  into  attitudes  that  art  would 
find  it  difficult  to  improve. 

Directly  opposite  this  gate  stand  five  marble  slabs,  indicating 
the  spots  in  which  are  buried  the  heads  of  All  Pacha^  of 
Albania,  his  three  sons  and  grandson.  The  insciiption  states, 
that  the  rebel  lost  his  head  for  having  dared  to  aspire  to  inde 
pendence.  He  was  a  brave  old  barbarian,  however,  and,  as  the 
worthy  chief  of  the  most  warlike  people  of  modern  times,  one 
stands  over  his  grave  with  regret.  It  would  have  been  a  classic 
spot  had  Byron  survived  to  visit  it.  No  event  in  his  travels  made 
more  impression  on  his  mind  than  the  pacha's  detecting  his  rank 
by  the  beauty  of  his  hands.  His  tine  description  of  the  wild 
court  of  Yanina,  in  Childe  Harold,  has  already  made  the  poet's 
return  of  immortality,  but  had  he  survived  the  revolution  in 
Greece,  with  his  increased  knowledge  of  the  Albanian  soldier  and 
his  habits,  and  his  esteem  for  the  old  chieftain,  a  hero  so  much  to 
his  taste  would  have  been  his  most  natural  theme.  It  remains  to 
be  .seen  whether  the  a^e  or  the  language  will  produce  another 
Byron  to  take  up  the  broken  thread. 

As  we  were  poring  over  the  Turkish  inscription,  four  wii, 
apparently  quite  intoxicated,  came  running  and  hallooing  from  the 
city  gate,  bearing  upon  their  shoulders  a  dead  man  in  his  bier. 
Entering  the  cemetery,  they  went  stumbling  on  over  the  foot- 
stones,  tossing  the  corpse  about  so  violently,  that  the  helpless 
limbs  frequently  fell  beyond  the  limits  of  the  rude  barrow,  while 
the  grave-digger,  the  only  sober  person,  save  the  dead  man,  in 
the  company,  followed  at  his  best  speed,  with  his  pick-ase  and 


364  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


shovel.  These  extraordinary  bearers  set  down  their  burden  not 
far  from  the  gate,  and,  to  my  surprise,  walked  laughing  off  like 
men  who  had  merely  engaged  in  a  moment's  frolic  by  the  way, 
while  the  sexton,  left  quite  alone,  composed  a  little  the  posture 
of  the  disordered  body,  and  sat  down  to  get  breath  for  his  task. 

My  Constantinopolitan  friend  tells  me  that  the  Koran  blesses 
him  who  carries  a  dead  body  forty  paces  on  its  way  to  the  grave. 
The  poor  are  thus  carried  out  to  the  cemeteries  by  voluntary 
bearers,  who,  after  they  have  completed  their  prescribed  paces, 
change  with  the  first  individual  whose  reckoning  with  heaven 
may  be  in  arrears. 

The  corpse  we  had  seen  so  rudely  borne  on  its  last  journey, 
was,  or  had  been,  a  middle-aged  Turk.  He  had  neither  shroud 
nor  coffin,  but 

"  Lay  like  a  gentleman  taking  a  snooze," 

m  his  slippers  and  turban,  the  bunch  of  flowers  on  his  bosom  the 
only  token  that  he  was  dressed  for  any  particular  occasion.  We 
had  not  time  to  stay  and  see  his  grave  dug,  and  "  his  face  laid 
toward  the  tomb  of  the  prophet." 

We  entered  the  Adrianople  gate,  and  crossed  the  triangle, 
which  old  Stamboul  nearly  forms,  by  a  line  approaching  its 
hypothenuse.  Though  in  a  city  so  thickly  populated,  it  was  one 
of  the  most  lonely  walks  conceivable.  We  met,  perhaps,  one 
individual  in  a  street ;  and  the  perfect  silence,  and  the  cheerless 
look  of  the  Turkish  houses,  with  their  jealously  closed  windows, 
gave  it  the  air  of  a  city  devastated  by  the  plague.  The  popula 
tion  of  Constantinople  is  only  seen  in  the  bazars,  or  in  the  streets 
bordering  on  the  Golden  Horn.  In  the  extensive  quarter 
occupied  by  dwelling-houses  only,  tho  inhabitants,  if  at  home, 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  365 


occupy  apartments  opening  on  their  secluded  gardens,  or  are 
hidden  from  the  gaze  of  the  street  by  their  fine  dull-colored 
lattices.  It  strikes  one  with  melancholy  after  the  gay  balconies 
and  open  doors  of  France  and  Italy  ! 

We  passed  the  Eskai  serai,  the  palace  in  which  the  imperial 
widows  wear  their  chaste  weeds  in  solitude  ;  and,  weary  with  our 
long  walk,  emerged  from  the  silent  streets  at  the  bazar  of  wax- 
candles,  and  took  caique  for  the  Argcntopolis  of  the  ancients, 
the  "  Silver  City"  of  Galatia. 


The  thundering  of  guns  from  the  whole  Ottoman  fleet  in  the 
Bosphorus  announced,  some  days  since,  that  the  sultan  had 
changed  his  summer  for  his  winter  serai,  and  the  commodore 
received  yesterday,  a  firman  to  visit  the  deserted  palace  of 
Beylerbey. 

We  left  the  frigate  at  an  early  hour,  our  large  party  of  officers 
increased  by  the  captain  of  the  Acteon,  sloop-of-war,  some 
gentlemen  of  the  English  ambassador's  household,  and  several 
strangers  who  took  advantage  of  the  commodore's  courtesy  to 
enjoy  a  privilege  granted  so  very  rarely. 

As  we  pulled  up  the  strait,  some  one  pointed  out  the  residence, 
on  the  European  shore,  of  the  once  favo-rite  wife,  and  now  fat 
widow,  of  Sultan  Selim.  She  is  called  by  the  Turks,  the  "  bone 
less  sultana,"  and  is  the  model  of  shape  by  the  oriental  standard. 
The  poet's  lines, 

"  Who  turned  that  little  waist  with  so  much  care, 
And  shut  perfection  in  so  small  a  ring?" 

though  a  very  neat  compliment  in  some  countries,  would  be  down- 


366          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


right  rudeness  in  the  East.  Near  this  jolly  in  weeds  lives  a  ven 
erable  Turk,  who  "was  once  ambassador  to  England.  He  came 
back  too  much  enlightened,  and  the  mufti  immediately  procured 
his  exile,  for  infidelity.  He  passes  his  day,  we  are  told,  in  look 
ing  at  a  large  map  hung  on  the  wall  before  him,  and  wondering  at 
his  own  travels. 

We  were  received  at  the  shining  brazen  gate  of  Beylerbey,  by 
Hamik  Pacha  (a  strikingly  elegant  man,  just  returned  from  a 
mission  to  England),  deputed  by  the  sultan  to  do  the  honors.  A 
side-door  introduced  us  immediately  to  the  grand  hall  upon  the 
lower  floor,  which  was  separated  only  by  four  marble  pillars,  and 
a  heavy  curtain  rolled  up  at  will,  from  the  gravel  walk  of  the 
garden  in  the  rear.  We  ascended  thence  by  an  open  staircase 
of  wood,  prettily  inlaid,  to  the  second  floor,  which  was  one  long 
suite  of  spacious  rooms,  built  entirely  in  the  French  style,  and 
thence  to  the  third  floor,  the  same  thing  over  again.  It  was 
quite  like  looking  at  lodgings  in  Paris.  There  was  no  furniture, 
except  an  occasional  ottoman  turned  with  its  face  upon  another, 
and  a  prodigious  quantity  of  French  musical  clocks,  three  or  four 
in  every  room,  and  all  playing  in  our  honor  with  an  amusing  con 
fusion.  One  other  article,  by  the  way — a  large,  common,  Amer 
ican  rocking-chair  !  The  poor  thing  stood  in  a  great  gilded 
room,  all  alone,  looking  pitiably  home-sick.  I  seated  myself  in 
it,  ma/gre  a  thick  coat  of  dust  upon  the  bottom,  as  I  would  visit 
a  sick  countryman  in  exile. 

The  harem  was  locked,  and  the  polite  pacha  regretted  that  ho 
had  no  orders  to  open  it.  We  descended  to  the  gardens,  which 
rise  by  terraces  to  a  gim-crack  temple  and  orangery,  and  having 
looked  at  the  sultan's  poultry,  we  took  our  leave.  If  his  pink 
palace  in  Europe  is  no  finer  than  his  yellow  palace  in  Asia,  there 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  367 

is  many  a  merchant  in  America  better  lodged  than  the  padishah 
of  the  Ottoman  empire.  We  have  not  seen  the  old  seraglio, 
however,  and  in  its  inaccessible  recesses,  probably,  moulders  that 
true  oriental  splendor  which  this  upholsterer  monarch  abandons 
in  his  rage,  for  the  novel  luxuries  of  Europe. 


LETTER    XLIV, 

Farewell  to  Constantinople — Europe  and  the  East  compared — The  Departure — Smyrna, 
the  Cjreat  Mart  for  Figs — An  Excursion  into  Asia  Minor — Travelling  Equipments — 
Character  of  the  Hajjis — Encampment  of  Gipsies — A  Youthful  Hebe — Note — Horror  of 
the  Turks  for  the  "  Unclean  Animal"— An  Anecdote. 

I  HAVE  spent  the  last  day  or  two  in  farewell  visits  to  my  favor 
ite  haunts  in  Constantinople.  I  galloped  up  the  Bosphorus, 
almost  envying  les  ames  damnecs  that  skim  so  swiftly  and  perpet 
ually  from  the  Symplegades  to  Marmora,  and  from  Marmora 
back  to  the  Symplegades.  I  took  a  caique  to  the  Valley  of 
Sweet  Waters,  and  rambled  away  an  hour  on  its  silken  sward.  I 
lounged  a  morning  in  the  bazars,  smoked  a  parting  pipe  with  my 
old  Turk  in  the  Bezestein,  and  exchanged  a  last  salaam  with  the 
venerable  Armenian  bookseller,  still  poring  over  his  illuminated 
Hafiz.  And  last  night,  with  the  sundown  boat  waiting  at  the 
pier,  I  loitered  till  twilight  in  the  small  and  elevated  cemetery 
between  Galata  and  Peia,  and,  with  feelings  of  even  painful 
regret,  gazed  my  last  upon  the  matchless  scene  around  me.  In 
the  words  of  the  eloquent  author  of  Anastasius,  when  taking  the 
same  farewell,  u  For  the  last  time,  my  eye  wandered  over  the 
dimpled  hills,  glided  along  the  winding  waters,  and  dived  into  the 
deep  and  delicious,  dells,  in  which  branch  out  its>  jagged  shores. 


SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN.          369 


Reverting  from  these  smiling  outlets  of  its  sea-beat  suburbs  to 
its  busy  centre,  I  surveyed,  in  slow  succession,  every  chaplet  of 
swelling  cupolas,  every  grove  of  slender  minarets,  and  every 
avenue  of  glittering  porticoes,  whose  pinnacles  dart  their  golden 
shafts  from  between  the  dark  cypress-trees  into  the  azure  sky. 
I  dwelt  on  them  as  on  things  I  never  was  to  behold  more  ;  and 
not  until  the  evening  had  deepened  the  veil  it  cast  over  the 
varied  scene  from  orange  to  purple,  and  from  purple  to  the  sable 
hue  of  night,  did  I  tear  myself  away  from  the  impressive  spot. 
I  then  bade  the  city  of  Constantino  farewell  for  ever,  descended 
the  high-crested  hill,  stepped  into  the  heaving  boat,  turned  my 
back  upon  the  shore,  and  sank  my  regrets  in  the  sparkling  wave, 
across  which  the  moon  had  already  flung  a  trembling  bar  of 
silvery  light,  pointing  my  way,  as  it  were,  to  other  unknown 
regions." 

There  are  few  intellectual  pleasures  like  that  of  finding  our 
own  thoughts  and  feelings  well  described  by  another  ! 

I  certainly  would  not  live  in  the  east ;  and  when  I  sum  up  its 
inconveniences  and  the  deprivations  to  which  the  traveller  from 
Europe,  with  his  refined  wants,  is  subjected,  I  marvel  at  the 
heart-ache  with  which  I  turn  my  back  upon  it,  and  the  deep  die 
it  has  infused  into  my  imagination.  Its  few  peculiar  luxuries  do 
not  compensate  for  the  total  absence  of  comfort;  its  lovely 
scenery  cannot  reconcile  you  to  wretched  lodgings  ;  its  pictur 
esque  costumes  and  poetical  people,  and  golden  sky,  fine  food  for 
a  summer's  fancy  as  they  are,  cannot  make  you  forget  the  civil 
ized  pleasures  you  abandon  for  them — the  fresh  literature,  the 
arts  and  music,  the  refined  society,  the  elegant  pursuits,  and  the 
stirring  intellectual  collision  of  the  cities  of  Europe. 

Yet  the  world  contains  nothing  like  Constantinople  !     If  wo 
16* 


370         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


could  compel  all  our  senses  into  one,  and  live  by  the  pleasures  of 
the  eye,  it  were  a  paradise  untranscended.  The  Bosphorus — the 
superb,  peculiar,  incomparable  Bosphorus  !  the  dream-like,  fairy- 
built  seraglio  !  the  sights  within  the  city  so  richly  strange,  and 
the  valleys  and  streams  around  it  so  exquisitely  fair  !  the  volup 
tuous  softness  of  the  dark  eyes  haunting  your  every  step  on 
shore,  and  the  spirit-like  swiftness  and  elegance  of  your  darting 
caique  upon  the  waters  !  In  what  land  is  the  priceless  sight  such 
a  treasure  ?  Where  is  the  fancy  so  delicately  and  divinely  pam 
pered  ? 

Every  heave  at  the  capstan-bars  drew  upon  my  heart ;  and 
when  the  unwilling  anchor  at  last  let  go  its  hold,  and  the  frigate 
swung  free  with  the  outward  current,  I  felt  as  if,  in  that  moment, 
I  had  parted  my  hold  upon  a  land  of  faery.  The  dark  cypresses 
and  golden  pinnacles  of  Seraglio  Point,  and  the  higher  shafts  of 
Sophia's  sky-touching  minarets  were  the  last  objects  in  my 
swiftly-receding  eye,  and,  in  a  short  hour  or  two,  the  whole 
bright  vision  had  sunk  below  the  horizon. 

We  crossed  Marmora,  and  shot  down  the  rapid  Dardanelles  in 
as  many  hours  as  a  passage  up  had  occupied  days,  and,  rounding 
the  coast  of  Anatolia,  entered  between  Mitylene  and  the  Asian 
shore,  and,  on  the  third  day,  anchored  in  the  bay  of  Smyrna. 

"  Everybody  knows  Smyrna,"  says  Mac  Farlane,  "  it  is  such  a 
place  for  Jigs  /"  It  is  a  low-built  town,  at  the  head  of  the  long 
gulf,  which  bears  its  name,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  high 
rock  immediately  over  it,  topped  by  the  ruins  of  an  old  castle, 
said  to  imbody  in  its  walls  the  ancient  Christian  church,  it  has  no 
very  striking  features.  Extensive  gardens  spread  away  on  every 
side,  and,  without  .jxciting  much  of  your  admiration  for  its 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  371 

beauty,  there  is  a   look  of  peace  and  rural   comfort  about  the 
neighborhood  that  affects  the  mind  pleasantly. 

Almost  immediately  on  my  arrival,  I  joined  a  party  for  a  few 
days'  tour  in  Asia  Minor.  We  were  five,  and,  with  a  baggage- 
horse,  and  a  mounted  suridjee,  our  caravan  was  rather  respecta 
ble.  Our  appointments  were  orientally  simple.  We  had  each  a 
Turkish  bed  (alias,  a  small  carpet),  a  nightcap,  and  a  "  copy 
hold"  upon  a  pair  of  saddlebags,  containing  certain  things 
forbidden  by  the  Koran,  and  therefore  not  likely  to  be  found  by 
the  way.  Our  attendant  was  a  most  ill-favored  Turk,  whose 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca  (he  was  a  hajji,  and  wore  a  green  turban) 
had,  at  least,  imparted  no  sanctity  to  his  visage.  If  he  was  not 
a  rogue,  nature  had  mis-labelled  him,  and  I  shelter  my  want  of 
charity  under  the  Arabic  proverb  :  u  Distrust  thy  neighbor  if  he 
has  made  a  hajji  ;  if  he  has  mado  two,  make  haste  to  leave  thy 
house  " 

We  wound  our  way  slowly  out  of  the  narrow  and  ill-paved 
streets  of  Smyrna,  and  passing  through  the  suburban  gardens, 
yellow  with  lemons  and  oranges,  crossed  a  small  bridge  over  the 
Hermus.  This  is  the  favorite  walk  of  the  Suiyrniotes,  and  if  its 
classic  river,  whose  "golden  sands"  (here,  at  least),  are  not 
golden,  and  its  "  Bath  of  Diana"  near  by,  whose  waters  would 
scarce  purify  her  "  silver  bow,"  are  something  less  than  their 
sounding  names  ;  there  is  a  cool,  dark  cemetery  beyond,  less 
famous,  but  more  practicable  for  sentiment,  and  many  a  shadowy 
vine  and  drooping  tree  in  the  gardens  around,  that  might  recom 
pense  lovers,  perhaps,  for  the  dirty  labyrinth  of  the  intervening 
suburb. 

We  spurred  away  over  the  long  plain  of  Hadjilar,  leaving  to 
the  right  and  left  the  pretty  villages,  ornamented  by  the  summer 


372         SUMMER  CRUISE   IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


residences  of  the  wealthy  merchants  of  Smyrna,  and  in  two  or 
three  h'ours  reached  a  small  lone  cafe,  at  the  foot  of  its  bounding 
range  of  mountains.  We  dismounted  here  to  breathe  our  horses, 
and  while  coffee  was  preparing,  I  discovered,  in  a  green  hollow 
hard  by,  a  small  encampment  of  gipsies.  With  stones  in  our 
bauds,  as  the  cafejee  told  us  the  dogs  were  troublesome,  we 
walked  down  into  the  little  round-bottomed  dell,  a  spot  selected 
with  ''  a  lover's  eye  for  nature,"  and  were  brought  to  bay  by  a 
dozen  noble  shepherd-dogs,  within  a  few  yards  of  their  outer 
tent. 

The  noise  brought  out  an  old  sun-burnt  woman,  and  two  or 
three  younger  ones,  with  a  troop  of  boys,  who  called  in  the  dogs, 
and  invited  us  kindly  within  their  limits.  The  tents  were  placed 
in  a  half  circle,  with  their  doors  inward,  and  were  made  with 
extreme  neatness.  There  were  eight  or  nine  of  them,  very 
small  and  low,  wiih  round  tops,  the  cloth  stretched  tightly  over 
an  imnir  frame.  ;:nd  bound  curiously  down  on  the  outside  with 
beautiful  wicker-work.  The  curtains  at  the  entrance  were 
looped  up  to  admit  the  grateful  sun,  and  the  compactly  arranged 
interiors  lay  open  to  our  prying  curiosity.  In  the  rounded  corner 
farthest  from  the  door,  lay  uniformly  the  same  goat-skin  beds, 
flat  on  the  ground,  and  in  the  centre  of  most  of  them,  stood  a 
small  loom,  at  which  the  occupant  plied  her  task  like  an  automa 
ton,  not  betraying  by  any  sign  a  consciousness  of  our  presence. 
They  sat  cross-legged  like  the  Turks,  and  had  all  a  look  of 
habitual  sternness,  which,  with  their  thin,  strongly-marked  gipsy 
features,  and  wild  eyes,  gave  them  more  the  appearance  of  men. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  remarked  such  a  character  upon 
a  class  of  female  faces,  and  I  should  have  thought  I  had 
mistaken  their  sex,  if  their  half-naked  figures  bad  not  put  it 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  373 


beyond  a  doubt.  The  men  were  probably  gone  to  Smyrna,  as 
none  were  visible  in  the  encampment.  As  we  were  about  relum 
ing,  the  curtain  of  the  largest  tent,  which  had  been  dropped  on 
our  entrance,  was  lifted  cautiously,  by  a  beautiful  girl,  of  perhaps 
thirteen,  who,  not  remarking  that  I  was  somewhat  in  the  rear  of 
my  companions,  looked  after  them  a  moment,  and  then  fastening 
back  the  dingy  folds  by  a  string,  returned  to  her  employment  of 
swinging  an  infant  in  a  small  wicker  hammock,  suspended  in  the 
centre  of  the  tent.  Her  dark,  but  prettily-rounded  arm,  was 
decked  with  a  bracelet  of  silver  pieces,  and  just  between  two  of 
the  finest  eyes  I  ever  saw,  was  suspended  by  a  yellow  thread, 
one  of  the  small  gold  coins  of  Constantinople.  Her  softly- 
moulded  bust  was  entirely  bare,  and  might  have  served  for  the 
model  of  a  youthful  Hebe.  A  girdle  around  her  waist  sustained 
loosely  a  long  pair  of  full  Turkish  trousers,  of  the  color  and 
fashion  usually  worn  by  women  in  the  east,  and  caught  over  her 
hip,  hung  suspended  by  its  fringe  the  truant  shawl  that  had  been 
suffered  to  fall  from  her  shoulders  and  expose  her  guarded  beauty. 
I  stood  admiring  her  a  full  minute,  before  I  observed  a  middle- 
aged  woman  in  the  opposite  corner,  who,  bending  over  her  work, 
was  fortunately  as  late  in  observing  my  intrusive  presence.  As 
T  advanced  half  a  step,  however,  my  shadow  fell  into  the  tent, 
and  starting  with  surprise,  she  rose  and  dropped  the  curtain. 

We  remounted,  and  I  rode  on,  thinking  of  the  vision  of  love 
liness  I  was  leaving  in  that  wild  dell.  We  travel  a  great  way  to 
see  hills  and  rivers,  thought  I,  but,  after  all,  a  human  being  is  a 
more  interesting  object  than  a  mountain.  I  shall  remember  the 
little  gipsy  of  Hadjilar,  long  after  I  have  forgotten  Hermus  and 
Sypilus. 

Our  road  dwindled  to  a  mere  bridle-path,  as  we  advanced,  and 


374        SUMMER   CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  scenery  grew  wild  and  barren.  The  horses  were  all  sad 
stumblers,  and  the  uneven  rocks  gave  them  every  apology  for 
coming  down  whenever  they  could  forget  the  spur,  and  so  we 
entered  the  broad  and  green  valley  of  Yackerhem  (I  write  it  as  I 
heard  it  pronounced),  and  drew  up  at  the  door  of  a  small  hovel, 
serving  the  double  purpose  of  of  a  cafe  and  a  guard-house. 

A  Turkish  officer  of  the  old  regime,  turbanned  and  cross-leg 
ged,  and  armed  with  pistols  and  ataghan,  sat  smoking  on  one 
side  the  brazier  of  coals,  and  the  cafejee  exercised  his  small 
vocation  on  the  other.  Before  the  door,  a  raised  platform  of 
greensward,  and  a  marble  slab,  facing  toward  Mecca,  indicated 
the  place  for  prayer  ;  and  a  dashing  rider  of  a  Turk,  who  had 
kept  us  company  from  Smyrna,  flying  past  us  and  dropping  to 
the  rear  alternately,  had  taken  off  his  slippers  at  the  moment  we 
arrived,  and  was  commencing  his  noon  devotions. 

We  gathered  round  our  commissary's  saddle-bags,  and  shocked 
our  mussulman  friends,  by  producing  the  unclean  beast*  and  the 
forbidden  liquor,  which,  with  the  delicious  Turkish  coffee,  never 
better  than  in  these  wayside  hovels,  furnished  forth  a  traveller's 
meal. 

*  Talking  of  hams,  two  of  the  sultan's  chief  eunuchs  applied  to  an  Eng 
lish  physician,  a  friend  of  mine  at  Constantinople,  to  accompany  them  on 
board  the  American  frigate.  I  engaged  to  wait  on  board  for  them  on  a 
certain  day,  but  they  did  not  make  their  appearance.  They  gave,  as  their 
apology,  that  they  could  not  defile  themselves  by  entering  a  ship,  polluted 
by  the  presence  of  that  unclean  animal,  the  hog. 


LETTER    XLV, 

Natural  Statue  of  Niobe— The  Thorn  of  Syria  and  its  Tradition— Approach  to  Magnesia- 
Hereditary  Residence  of  the  Family  of  Bey-Oglou— Character  of  its  Present  Occupant— 
The  Truth  about  Oriental  Caravanserais — Comforts  and  Appliances  they  yield  to  Travel* 
lers— Figaro  of  the  Turks — The  Pilaw — Morning  Scene  at  the  Departure— Playful  Fa« 
miliarity  of  a  Solemn  old  Turk — Magnificent  Prospect  from  Mount  Cypilus. 

THREE  or  four  hours  more  of  hard  riding  brought  us  to  a  long 
glen,  opening  upon  the  broad  plains  of  Lydia.  We  were  on  the 
look-out  here  for  the  "  natural  statue  of  Niobe,"  spoken  of  by  the 
ancient  writers  as  visible  from  the  road  in  this  neighborhood ; 
but  there  was  nothing  that  looked  like  her,  unless  she  was,  as 
the  poet  describes  her,  a  "  Niobe,  all  tears,"  and  runs  down 
toward  the  Sarabat,  in  what  we  took  to  be  only  a  very  pretty 
mountain  rivulet.  It  served  for  simple  fresh  water  to  our  volun 
teer  companion,  who  darted  off  an  hour  before  sunset,  and  had 
finished  his  ablutions  and  prayers,  and  was  rising  from  his  knees 
as  we  overtook  him  upon  its  grassy  border.  Almost  the  only 
thing  that  grows  in  these  long  mountain  passes,  is  the  peculiar 
thorn  of  Syria,  said  to  be  the  same  of  which  our  Saviour's  crown 
was  plaited.  It  differs  from  the  common  species,  in  having  a 
hooked  thorn  alternating  with  the  straight,  adding  cruelly  to  its 
power  of  laceration.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  flower,  at  this 


376          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


season  withering  on  the  bush,  is  a  circular  golden-colored  leaf, 
resembling  exactly  the  radiated  glory  usually  drawn  around  the 
heads  of  Christ  and  the  Virgin. 

Amid  a  sunset  of  uncommon  splendor,  firing  every  peak  of  the 
opposite  range  of  hills  with  an  effulgent  red,  and  filling  the  valley 
between  with  an  atmosphere  of  heavenly  purple,  we  descended  into 
the  plain. 

Mount  Sypilus,  in  whose  rocks  the  magnetic  ore  is  said  to 
have  been  first  discovered,  hung  over  us  in  bold  precipices ;  and, 
rounding  a  projecting  spur,  we  came  suddenly  in  sight  of  the 
minarets  and  cypresses  of  Mfignesia  (not  pronounced  as  if  written 
iu  ;IM  apothecary's  bill),  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Ottoman  empire. 

On  the  side  of  the  ascent,  above  the  town,  we  observed  a  large 
isolated  mansion,  surrounded  with  a  wall,  and  planted  about  with 
noble  trees,  looking,  with  the  exception  that  it  was  too  freshly 
painted,  like  one  of  the  fine  old  castle  palaces  of  Italy.  It  was 
something  very  extraordinary  for  the  east,  where  no  man  builds 
beyond  the  city  wall,  and  no  house  is  very  much  larger  than  an 
other.  It  was  the  hereditary  residence,  we  afterward  discovered, 
of  almost  the  only  noble  family  in  Turkey — that  of  the  Bey-Og- 
lou.  You  will  recollect  Byron's  allusion  to  it  in  the  "  Bride  of 
Abydos  :" 

''  We  Moslem  reck  not  much  of  blood, 

But  yet  the  race  of  Karaisman, 
Unchanged,  unchangeable  hath  stood, 

First  of  the  bold  Timareot  bands 
Who  won,  and  well  can  keep,  tn.'ir  lai:  '.•>  j 
Enough  that  he  who  come?  to  \vo  . 
Is  kinsman  of  the  Bey-Oglnn  " 

I  quote  from  memory,  perhaps  incorrectly. 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  377 

The  present  descendant  is  still  in  possession  of  the  title,  and  is 
said  to  be  a  liberal-minded  and  hospitable  old  Turk,  of  the  an' 
cient  and  better  school.  His  camels  are  the  finest  that  come 
into  Smyrna,  and  are  famous  for  their  beauty  and  appointments. 

Our  devout  companion  left  us  at  the  first  turning  in  the  town, 
laying  his  hand  to  his  breast  in  gratitude  for  having  been  suffered 
to  annoy  us  all  day  with  his  brilliant  equitation,  and  we  stumbled 
in  through  the  increasing  shadows  of  twilight  to  the  caravanserai. 

It  is  very  possible  that  the  reader  has  but  a  slender  conception 
of  an  oriental  hotel.  Supposing  it,  at  least,  from  the  inadequacy 
of  my  own  previous  ideas,  I  shall  allow  myself  a  little  particu 
larity  in  the  description  of  the  conveniences  which  the  travelling 
ZuU-ikas  and  Fatimas,  the  Maleks  and  Othmans,  of  eastern  story, 
encounter  in  their  romantic  journeys. 

It  was  near  the  farther  outskirt  of  the  large  city  of  Magnesia 
(the  accent,  I  repeat,  is  on  the  penult),  that  we  found  the  way 
encumbered  with  some  scores  of  kneeling  camels,  announcing  our 
vicinity  to  a  khan.  A  large  wooden  building,  rather  off  its 
perpendicular,  with  a  great  many  windows,  but  no  panes  in  them, 
and  only  here  and  there  a  shutter  "hanging  by  the  eyelids," 
presently  appeared,  and  entering  its  hospitable  gateway,  which 
had  neither  gate  nor  porter,  we  dismounted  in  a  large  court,  lit 
only  by  the  stars,  and  pre-occupied  by  any  number  of  mules  and 
horses.  An  inviting  staircase  led  to  a  gallery  encircling  the 
whole  area,  from  which  opened  thirty  or  forty  small  doors ;  but, 
though  we  made  as  much  noise  as  could  be  expected  of  as  many 
men  and  horses,  no  waiter  looked  over  the  balustrades,  nor  maid 
Cicely,  nor  Boniface,  or  their  corresponding  representatives  in 
Turkey,  invited  us  in.  The  suridjee  looked  to  his  horses,  which 
was  his  business,  and  to  look  to  ourselves  was  ours  ;  though, 


378          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


with  our  stiff  limbs  and   clamorous   appetites,  we  set  about  it 
rather  despairingly. 

The  Figaro  of  the  Turks  is  a  cafejee,  who,  besides  shaving, 
making  coffee,  and  bleeding,  is  supposed  to  be  capable  of  every 
office  required  by  man.  He  is  generally  a  Greek,  the  Mussul 
man  seldom  having  sufficient  facility  of  character  for  the  vocation. 
In  a  few  minutes,  then,  the  nearest  Figaro  was  produced,  who, 
scarce  dissembling  his  surprise  at  the  improvidence  of  travellers 
who  went  about  without  pot  or  kettle,  bag  of  rice  or  bottle  of  oil, 
led  the  way  with  his  primitive  lamp  to  our  apartment.  We 
might  have  our  choice  of  twenty.  Having  looked  at  the  other 
nineteen,  we  came  back  to  the  first,  reconciled  to  it  by  sheer  force 
of  comparison.  Of  its  two  windows,  one  alone  had  a  shutter  that 
would  fulfill  its  destiny.  It  contained  neither  chair,  table,  nor  uten 
sil  of  any  description.  Its  floor  had  not  been  swept,  nor  its  walls 
whitewashed  since  the  days  of  Timour  the  Tartar.  "  Kalo  ! 
Kalo  !"  (Greek  for  you  will  be  very  comfortable),  cried  our  com 
missary,  throwing  down  some  old  mats  to  spread  our  carpets  upon. 
But  the  mats  were  alive  with  vermin,  and,  for  sweeping  the  room, 
the  dust  would  not  have  been  laid  till  midnight.  So  we  threw 
down  our  carpets  upon  the  floor,  and  driving  from  our  minds  the 
too  luxurious  thoughts  of  clean  straw,  and  a  corner  in  a  warm 
barn,  sat  down,  by  the  glimmer  of  a  flaring  taper,  to  wait,  with 
what  patience  we  might,  for  a  chicken  still  breathing  freely  on 
his  roost,  and  turn  our  backs  as  ingeniously  as  possible  on  a  chilly 
December  wind,  that  came  in  at  the  open  window,  as  if  it  kn-ew 
the  caravanserai  were  free  to  all  comers.  There  is  but  one  cir 
cumstance  to  add  to  this  faithful  description — and  it  is  one  which, 
in  the  minds  of  many  very  worthy  persons,  would  turn  the  scale 


ON  BOARD    AN  AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  379 


in  favor  of  the  hotels  of  the  east,  with  all  their  disadvantages — 
there  was  nothing  to  pay  ! 

Ali  Bey,  in  his  travels,  predicts  the  fall  of  the  Ottoman  empire 
from  the  neglected  state  of  the  khans ;  this  inattention  to  the 
public  institutions  of  hospitality,  being  a  falling  away  from  the 
leadinor  Mussulman  virtue.  They  never  gave  the  traveller  more 
than  a  shelter,  howevo:-,  ia  their  best  days  ;  and  to  enter  a  cold, 
unfurnished  room,  after  a  day's  hard  travel,  even  if  the  floor  were 
clean,  and  the  windows  would  shut,  is  rather  comfortless.  Yet 
such  is  eastern  travel,  and  the  alternative  is  to  take  "  the  sky  for 
a  great  coat,"  and  find  as  soft  a  stone  as  possible  for  your  pillow. 

We  gathered  around  our  pilaw,  which  came  in  the  progress  of 
time,  and  consisted  of  a  chicken,  buried  in  a  handsomely-shaped 
cone  of  rice  and  butter,  forming,  with  a  large  crater-like  black 
bowl  in  which  it  stood,  the  cloud  of  smoke  issuing  from  its  peak, 
and  the  lava  of  butter  flowing  down  its  sides,  as  pretty  a  minia 
ture  Vesuvius,  as  you  would  find  in  a  modeller's  window  in  the 
Toledo.  Encouraging  tl^at  sin  in  Christians,  which  they  would 
not  commit  themselves,  they  brought  us  some  wine  of  the  coun 
try,  the  sin  of  drinking  which,  one  would  think,  was  its  own  suffi 
cient  punishment.  With  each  a  wooden  spoon,  the  immediate 
and  only  means  of  communication  between  the  dish  and  the 
mouth,  we  soon  solved  the  doubtful  problem  of  the  depth  of  tha 
crater,  and  then  casting  lots  who  should  lie  next  the  window  to 
take  off  the  edge  of  the  December  blast,  we  improved  upon  some 
hints  taken  from  the  fig-packers  of  Smyrna,  and  with  an  economy 
of  exposed  surface,  which  can  only  be  learned  by  travel,  disposed 
ourselves  in  a  solid  body  to  sleep. 

The  tinkling  of  the  camels'  bells  awoke  me  as  the  day  was 
breaking,  and  my  toilet  being  already  made,  I  sprang  readily  up 


380        SUMMER    CRUISE  IN  THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 

and  descended  to  the  court  of  the  caravanserai.  It  was  an 
eastern  scene,  and  not  an  unpoetical  one.  The  patient  and  in 
telligent  camels  were  kneeling  in  regular  ranks  to  receive  their 
loads,  complaining  in  a  voice  almost  human,  as  the  driver  flung 
the  heavy  hales  upon  the  saddles  too  roughly,  while  the  small 
donkey,  no  larger  than  a  Newfoundland  dog,  leader  of  the  long 
caravan,  took  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  gigantic  file,  pricking 
hack  his  long  ears  as  if  he  were  counting  his  spongy-footed  fol 
lowers,  as  they  fell  in  behind  him.  Here  and  there  knelt  six  or 
seven,  with  their  unsightly  humps  still  unburdened,  eating  with 
their  peculiar  deliberateness  from  small  heaps  of  provender,  and 
scattered  over  the  adjacent  fields,  wandered  separately  the  cara 
van  of  some  indolent  driver,  browsing  upon  the  shrubs,  and  look 
ing  occasionally  with  intelligent  expectation  toward  the  khan,  for 
the  appearance  of  their  tardy  master.  Over  all  rose  the  mingled 
music  of  the  small  bells,  with  which  their  gay-covered  harness 
was  profusely  covered,  varied  by  the  heavy  beat  of  the  larger  ones 
borne  at  the  necks  of  the  leading  ajad  last  camels  of  the  file, 
while  the  retreating  sounds  of  the  caravans  already  on  their 
march,  came  in  with  the  softer  tones  which  completed  its  sweet 
ness. 

In  a  short  time  my  companions  joined  me,  and  we  started  for 
a  walk  in  the  town.  The  necessity  of  attending  the  daylight 
prayers,  makes  all  Mussulmans  early  risers,  and  we  found  the 
streets  already  crowded,  and  the  merchants  and  artificers  as 
busy  as  at  noon.  Turning  a  corner  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  a 
row  of  butchers,  who  were  slaughtering  sheep  revolt ingly  in  front 
of  their  stalls,  we  met  two  old  Turks  coming  from  the  mosque, 
one  of  whom,  with  the  familiarity  of  manners  which  characterizes 
the  nation,  took  from  my  hand  a  stout  English  riding  whip  which 


ON   BOARD  AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  331 


I  carried,  and  began  to  exercise  it  on  the  bag-like  trowsers  of  his 
friend.  After  amusing  himself  a  while  in  this  manner,  he  re 
turned  the  whip,  and,  patting  me  condescendingly  on  the  cheek, 
gave  me  two  figs  from  his  voluminous  pocket,  and  walked  on. 
Considering  that  I  stand  six  feet  in  my  stockings,  an  unwieldy 
size,  you  may  say,  for  a  pet,  this  freak  of  the  old  Magnesian 
would  seem  rather  extraordinary.  Yet  it  illustrates  the  Turkish 
manners,  which,  as  I  have  often  had  occasion  to  notice,  are  a 
singular  mixture  of  profound  gravity  and  the  most  childish  sim 
plicity. 

We  found  a  few  fine  old  marble  columns  in  the  porches  of  the 
mosques,  but  one  Turkish  town  is  just  like  another,  and  after  an 
hour  or  two  of  wandering  about  among  the  wooden  houses  and 
narrow  streets,  we  returned  to  the  khan,  and  with  a  cup  of  coffee, 
mounted  and  resumed  our  journey. 

I  have  never  seen  a  finer  plain  than  that  of  Magnesia.  With 
an  even  breadth  of  seven  or  eight  miles,  its  length  can  not  be 
less  than  fifty  or  sixty, 'and  throughout  its  whole  extent  it  is  one 
unbroken  picture  of  fertile  field  and  meadow,  shut  in  by  two  lofty 
ranges  of  mountains,  and  watered  by  the  full  and  winding  Her- 
mus.  Without  fence,  and  almost  without  human  habitation,  it  is 
a  noble  expanse  to  the  eye,  possessing  all  the  untrammelled 
beauty  of  a  wilderness  without  its  detracting  inutility.  It  is 
-literally  "  clothed  with  flocks."  As  we  rode  on  under  the 
eastern  brow  of  Mount  Sypilus,  and  struck  out  more  into  the 
open  plain,  as  far  as  we  could  distinguish  by  the  eye,  spread  the 
snowy  sheep  in  hundreds,  at  merely  separating  distances,  check 
ered  here  and  there  by  a  herd  of  the  tall  jet-black  goats  of  the 
east,  walking  onward  in  slow  and  sober  procession,  with  the 
solemn  state  of  a  funeral.  The  road  was  lined  with  camels> 


382  SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


coming  into  Smyrna  by  this  grand  highway  of  nature,  and 
bringing  all  the  varied  produce  of  Asia  Minor  to  barter  in  its 
busy  mart.  We  must  have  passed  a  thousand  in  our  day's 
journey. 


LETTER    XLVI. 

The  Eye  of  the  Camel— -Rocky  Sepulchres  —  Virtue  of  an  old  Passport,  backed  by 
Impudence— Temple  of  Cj  bele— Palace  of  Crocus— Ancient  Church  of  Sardi*— Ketora 
to  Smyrna, 

UNSIGHTLY  as  the  camel  is,  with  its  long  snaky  neck,  its 
frightful  hump,  and  its  awkward  legs  and  action,  it  wins  much 
upon  your  kindness  with  a  little  acquaintance.  Its  eye  is 
exceedingly  fine.  There  is  a  lustrous,  suffused  softness  in  the 
large  hazel  orb  that  is  the  rarest  beauty  in  a  human  eye,  and  so 
remarkable  is  this  feature  in  the  camel,  that  -I  wonder  it  has 
never  fallen  into  use  as  a  poetical  simile.  They  do  not  shun  the 
gaze  of  man  like  other  animals,  and  I  pleased  myself  often  when 
the  suridjee  slackened  his  pace,  with  riding  close  to  some 
returning  caravan,  and  exchanging  steady  looks  in  passing  with 
the  slow-paced  camels.  It  was  like  meeting  the  eye  of  a  kind 
old  man. 

The  face  of  Mount  Sypilus,  in  its  whole  extent,  is  excavated 
into  sepulchres,  They  are  mostly  ancient,  and  form  a  very 
singular  feature  in  the  scenery.  A  range  of  precipices,  varying 
from  one  to  three  hundred  feet  in  height,  is  perforated  for  twenty 
miles  with  these  airy  depositories  for  the  dead,  many  of  them  a 


384          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


hundred  feet  from  the  plain.  Occasionally  they  are  extended  to 
considerable  caves,  hewn  with  great  labor  in  the  rock,  arid 
probably  from  their  numerous  niches,  intended  as  family  sepul- 
ch  es.  They  are  now  the  convenient  eyries  of  great  numbers  of 
eagles,  which  circle  continually  around  the  summits,  and  poiso 
themselves  on  the  wing  along  the  sides  of  these  lonely  mountains, 
in  undisturbed  security. 

We  arrived  early  in  the  afternoon  at  Casabar,  a  pretty  town  at 
the  foot  of  Mount  Tmolus.  Having  eaten  a  melon,  the  only 
thing  for  which  the  place  is  famous,  we  proposed  to  go  on  to 
Achmet-lee,  some  three  hours  farther.  The  suridjee,  however, 
whose  horses  were  hired  by  the  day,  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
sleep  at  Casabar,  and  so  we  were  at  issue.  Our  stock  of  Turkish 
was  soon  exhausted,  and  the  hajii  was  coolly  unbuckling  the 
girths  of  the  baggage-horse  without  condescending  even  to  answer 
our  appeal  with  a  look.  The  rnussulman  idlers  of  the  cafe 
opposite,  took  their  pipes  from  their  mouths  and  smiled.  The 
gay  cafejee  went  about  his  arrangements  for  our  accommodation, 
quite  certain  that  we  were  there  for  the  night.  I  had  given  up 
the  point  myself,  when  one  of  my  companions,  with  a  look  of  the 
most  confident  triumph,  walked  up  to  the  suridjee,  and  Capping 
him  on  the  shoulder,  held  before  his  eyes  a  paper  with  the  seal 
of  the  pacha  of  Smyrna  in  broad  characters  at  the  top.  After 
the  astonished  Turk  had  looked  at  it  for  a  moment,  he  commenced 
in  good  round  English,  and  poured  upon  him  a  volume  of  inco 
herent  rhapsody,  slapping  the  paper  violently  with  his  hand  and 
pointing  to  the  road.  The  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  girth 
was  hastily  rebuckled,  and  the  frightened  suridjee  put  his  hand  to 
his  head  in  token  of  submission,  mounted  in  the  greatest  hurry 
and  rode  out  of  the  court  of  the  caravanserai.  The  cafejee  made 


ON    BOARD   AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  335 


his  salaam,  and  the  spectators  wished  us  respectfully  a  good 
journey.  The  magic  paper  was  an  old  passport,  and  our  friend 
had  calculated  securely  on  the  natural  dread  of  the  incompre 
hensible,  quite  sure  that  there  was  not  more  than  one  man  in  the 
village  that  could  read,  and  none  short  of  Smyrna  who  could 
understand  his  English. 

The  plain  between  Casabar  and  Achrnet-lee,  is  quite  a  realiza 
tion  of  poetry.  It  is  twelve  miles  of  soft,  bright  green-sward,  broken 
only  with  clumps  of  luxurious  oleanders,  an  occasional  cluster  of 
the  "  black  tents  of  Kedar"  with  their  flocks  about  them,  and 
here  and  there  a  loose  and  grazing  camel  indolently  lifting  his 
broad  foot  from  the  grass  as  if  he  felt  the  coolness  and  verdure  to 
its  spongy  core.  One's  heart  seems  to  stay  behind  as  he  rides 
onward  through  such  places. 

The  village  of  Achmet-lee  consists  of  a  coffee-house  with  a 
single  room.  We  arrived  about  sunset,  and  found  the  fireplace 
surrounded  by  six  or  seven  Turks  squatted  on  their  hams, 
travellers  like  ourselves,  who  had  arrived  before  us.  There  was 
fortunately  a  second  fireplace,  which  was  soon  blazing  with  faggots 
of  fir  and  oleander,  and  with  a  pilaw  between  us,  we  crooked  our 
tired  legs  under  us  on  the  earthen  floor,  and  made  ourselves  as 
comfortable  as  a  total  absence  of  every  comfort  would  permit. 
The  mingled  smoke  of  tobacco  and  the  chimney  drove  me  out  of 
doors  as  soon  as  our  greasy  meal  was  finished,  and  the  contrast 
was  enough  to  make  one  in  love  with  nature.  The  moon  was 
quite  full,  and  pouring  her  light  down  through  the  transparent 
and  dazzling  sky  of  the  east  with  indescribable  splendor.  The 
fires  of  twenty  or  thirty  caravans  were  blazing  in  the  fields 
around,  and  the  low  cries  of  the  camels  and  the  hum  of  voices 
from  the  various  groups,  were  mingled  with  the  sound  of  a 
17 


386          SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


stream  that  came  noisily  down  its  rocky  channel  from  the  nearest 
spur  of  Mount  Tmolus.  I  walked  up  and  down  the  narrow 
camel-path  till  midnight ;  and  if  the  kingly  spirits  of  ancient 
Lydia  did  not  keep  me  company  in  the  neighborhood  of  their 
giant  graves,  it  was  perhaps  because  the  feet  that  trod  down  their 
ashes  came  from  a  world  of  which  Croesus  and  Abyattis  never 
heard. 

The  sin  of  late  rising  is  seldom  chargeable  upon  an  earthen 
bed,  and  we  were  in  the  saddle  by  sunrise,  breathing  an  air  that, 
after  our  smoky  cabin,  was  like  a  spice-wind  from  Arabia. 
Winding  round  the  base  of  the  chain  of  mountains  which  we  had 
followed  for  twenty  or  thirty  miles,  we  ascended  a  little,  after  a 
brisk  trot  of  two  or  three  hours,  and  came  in  sight  of  the  citadel 
of  ancient  Sardis,  perched  like  an  eagle's  nest  on  the  summit  of 
a  slender  rock.  A  natural  terrace,  perhaps  a  hundred  feet  above 
the  plain,  expanded  from  the  base  of  the  hill,  and  this  was  the 
commanding  site  of  the  capital  of  Lydia.  Dividing  us  from  it 
ran  the  classic  and  "  golden-sanded"  Pactolus,  descending  from 
the  mountains  in  a  small,  narrow  valley,  covered  with  a  verdure 
so  fresh,  that  it  requires  some  power  of  fancy  to  realize  that  a 
crowded  empire  ever  swarmed  on  its  borders.  Crossing  the 
small,  bright  stream,  we  rode  along  the  other  bank,  winding  up 
its  ascending  curve,  and  dismounted  at  the  ruins  of  the  temple  of 
Cybele,  a  heap  of  gigantic  fragments  htrewn  confusedly  over  the 
earth,  with  two  majestic  columns  rising  lone  and  beautiful  into 
the  air. 

A  Dutch  artist,  who  was  of  our  party,  spread  his  drawing- 
board  and  pencils  upon  one  of  the  fallen  Ionic  capitals,  the 
suridjee  tied  his  horses'  heads  together,  and  laid  himself  at  his 
length  upon  the  grass,  and  the  rest  of  us  ascended  the  long  steep 


ON  BOARD  AN  AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  337 


hill  to  the  citadel.  With  some  loss  of  breath,  and  a  battle  with 
the  dogs  of  a  gipsy  encampment,  hidden  so  as  almost  to  be 
invisible  among  the  shrubbery  of  the  hill  side,  we  stood  at  last 
upon  a  peak,  crested  with  one  tottering  remnant  of  a  wall,  the 
remains  of  a  castle  whose  foundations  have  crumbled  beneath  it. 
It  looks  as  if  the  next  rain  must  send  the  whole  mass  into  the 
valley. 

It  puzzled  my  unmilitary  brain  to  conceive  how  Alexander  and 
his  Macedonians  climbed  these  airy  precipices,  if  taking  the 
citadel  was  a  part  of  his  conquest  of  Lydia.  The  fortifications  in 
the  rear  have  a  sheer  descent  from  their  solid  walls  of  two  or 
three  hundred  perpendicular  feet,  with  scarce  a  vine  clinging  by 
the  way.  I  left  my  companions  discussing  the  question,  and 
walked  to  the  other  ed^e  of  the  hill,  overlooking  the  immense 
plains  below.  The  tumuli  which  mark  the  sepulchres  of  the 
kings  of  Lydia,  rose  lik^  small  hills  on  the  opposite  and  distant 
bank  of  the  llennus.  Tho  broad  fieidn,  which  were  onc-j  the 
"  wealth  of  Croesus,"  lay  still  fertile  and  green  along  the  banks 
of  their  historic  river.  Thyatira  and  Philadelphia  were  almost 
within  reach  of  my  eye,  and  I  stood  upon  Sardis — in  the  midst 
of  the  sites  of  the  Seven  Churches.  Below  lay  the  path  of  the 
myriad  armies  of  Persia,  on  their  march  to  Greece  ;  here  Alex 
ander  pitched  his  tents  after  the  battle  of  Granicus,  wiling  away 
the  winter  in  the  lap  of  captive  Lydia  ;  and  over  the  small  ruin 
just  discernable  on  the  southern  bank  of  the  Pactolus,  "  the  angel 
of  the  church  of  Sardis"  brooded  with  his  protecting  wings  till 
the  few  who  had  "  not  defiled  their  garments,"  were  called  to 
"  walk  in  white,"  in  the  promised  reward  of  the  apocalypse. 

We,  descended  again  to  the  temple  of  Cjbele,  and  mounting 
our  horses,  rode  down  to  the  palace  of  Croesus.  Parts  of  tho 


388         SUMMER   CRUISE  IN    THE   MEDITERRANEAN, 


outer  walls,  the  bases  of  the  portico,  and  the  marble  steps  of  an 
inner  court,  are  all  that  remain  of  the  splendor  that  Solon  was 
called  upon  in  vain  to  admire.  With  the  permission  of  six  or 
seven  storks,  whose  coarse  nests  were  built  upon  the  highest 
points  of  the  ruins,  we  selected  the  broadest  of  the  marble  block?, 
lying  in  the  deserted  area,  and  spreading  our  travellers'  breakfast 
upon  it,  forgot  even  the  kingly  builder  in  our  well-earned  appe 
tites. 

There  are  three  parallel  walls  remaining  of  the  ancient  church 
of  Sardis.  They  stand  on  a  gentle  slope,  just  above  the  edge  of 
the  Pactolus,  and  might  easily  be  rebuilt  into  a  small  chapel, 
with  only  the  materials  within  them.  There  are  many  other 
ruins  on  the  site  of  the  city,  but  none  designated  by  a  name. 
We  loitered  about,  collecting  relics,  and  indulging  our  fancies, 
till  the*  suridjee  reminded  us  of  the  day's-  journey  before  us,  and 
with  a  drink  from  thn  Pactolus,  and  a  farewell  look  at  the 
b  •nii'.i.'ul  l<>nic  columns  standing  on  its  lonely  bank,  we  put  spurs 
t<>  our  horses  aud  galloped  once  more  down  into  the  valley. 

Our  Turkish  saddles  grew  softer  on  the  third  day's  journey, 
;;nd  we  travelled  more  at  ease.  I  found  the  freedom  and  solitude 
»•'  the  wide  and  unfenced  country  growing  at  every  mile  more 
upon  my  liking.  The  heart  expands  as  one  gives  his  horse  the 
rt-in  and  gallops  over  these  wild  paths  without  toll-gate  or 
obstacle.  I  can  easily  understand  the  feeling  of  Ali  Bey  on  his 
return  to  Europe  from  the  east. 

Our  fourth  day's  journey  lay  through  the  valley  between 
Tmolus  and  Semering — the  fairest  portion  of  tho  dominion  of 
Timour  the  Tartar.  How  gracefully  shaped  were  those  slopes  to 
the  mountains  !  How  bright  the  rivers  !  How  irreen  the.  banks  ' 


ON    BOARD    AN   AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  389 


How  like  a  new-created  and  still  unpeopled  world  it  seemed,  with 
every  tree  and  flower  and  fruit  the  perfect  model  of  its  kind  ! 

Leaving  the  secluded  village  of  Nymphi  nested  in  the 
mountains  oil  our  left,  as  we  approached  the  end  of  our  circuitous 
journey,  we  entered  early  in  the  afternoon  the  long  plains  of 
Hadjilar,  and  with  tired  horses  and  (malgre  romance)  an  agree 
able  anticipation  of  Christian  beds  and  supper,  we  dismounted  in 
Smyrna  at  sunset. 


LETTER  XLVII, 

Smyrna— Charms  of  its  Society— Hospitality  of  Foreign  Eesldents— The  Marina— The 
Casino- A  Narrow  Escape  from  the  Plague— Departure  of  the  Frigate— High  Character 
of  the  American  Navy— A  Tribute  of  Eespect  and  Gratitude— The  Farewell. 

WHAT  can  I  say  of  Smyrna  ?  Its  mosques  and  bazars  scarce 
deserve  description  after  those  of  Constantinople.  It  has  neither 
pictures,  scenery,  nor  any  peculiarities  of  costume  or  manners. 
There  are  no  "  lions"  here.  It  is  only  one  of  the  most  agreeable 
places  in  the  world,  exactly  the  sort  of  thing,  that  (without 
compelling  private  individuals  to  sit  for  their  portraits),*  is  the 
least  describable.  Of  the  fortnight  of  constant  pleasure  that  I 
have  passed  here,  I  do  not  well  know  how  I  can  eke  out  half  a 
page  that  would  amuse  you. 

*  A  courteous  old  traveller,  of  the  last  century,  whose  book  I  have  some 
where  fallen  in  with,  indulges  his  recollections  of  Smyrna  with  less  scruples. 
"  Mrs.  B.,"  he  says,  "  who  has  travelled  a  great  deal,  is  mistress  of  both 
French  and  Italian.  The  Misses  W.  are  all  amiable  young  ladies.  A  Miss 
A.,  whose  name  is  expressive  of  the  passion  she  inspires,  without  being 
beautiful,  possesses  a  je  ne  scais  quoi,  which  fascinates  more  than  beauty 
itself.  Not  to  love  her,  one  must  never  have  seen  her.  And  who  would  not 
be  captivated  by  the  vivacity  of  Miss  B.  ?"  How  charming  thus  to  go  about 
the  world,  describing  the  fairest  of  its  wonders,  instead  of  stupid  mountains 
and  rivers  I 


ON    BOARD    AN    AMERICAN    FRIGATE.  391 


The  society  of  Smyrna  has  some  advantages  over  that  of  any 
other  city  I  have  seen.  It  is  composed  entirely  of  the  families 
of  merchants,  who,  separated  from  the  Turkish  inhabitants, 
occupy  a  distinct  quarter  of  the  town,  are  responsible  only  to 
their  consuls,  and  having  no  nobility  above,  and  none  but  depen 
dants  below  them,  live  in  a  state  of  cordial  republican  equality 
that  is  not  found  even  in  America.  They  are  of  all  nations,  and 
the  principal  languages  of  Europe  are  spoken  by  everybody. 
Hospitality  is  carried  to  an  extent  more  like  the  golden  age  than 
these  "  days  of  iron  ;"  and,  as  a  necessary  result  of  the  free 
mixture  of  languages  and  feelings,  there  is  a  degree  of  informa 
tion  and  liberality  of  sentiment  among  them,  united  to  a  free  and 
joyous  tone  of  manners  and  habits  of  living,  that  is  quite  extra 
ordinary  in  men  of  their  care-fraught  profession.  Our  o\vn 
country,  I  am  proud  to  say,  is  most  honorably  represented. 
There  is  no  traveller  to  the  east,  of  any  nation,  who  does  not 
carry  away  with  him  from  Smyrna,  grateful  recollections  of  one  at 
least  whose  hospitality  is  as  open  as  his  gate.  This  living  over 
warehouses  of  opium,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  is  healthy  for  the 
heart. 

After  having  seen  the  packing  of  figs,  wondered  at  the  enor 
mous  burdens  carried  by  the  porters,  ridden  to  Bougiar  and  the 
castle  on  the  hill,  and  admired  the  caravan  of  the  Bey-Oglou, 
whose  camels  are  the  handsomest  that  come  into  Smyrna,  one  has 
nothing  to  do  but  dine,  dance,  and  walk  on  the  Marina.  The 
last  is  a  circumstance  the  traveller  does  well  not  to  miss.  A 
long  street  extends  along  the  bay,  lined  with  the  houses  of  the 
rich  merchants  of  the  town,  and  for  the  two  hours  before  sunset, 
every  family  is  to  be  seen  sitting  outside  its  door  upon  the  public 
pavement,  while  beaux  and  belles  stroll  up  and  down  in  all  tho 


392         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE  MEDITERRANEAN, 


gayety  of  perpetual  holyday.  They  are  the  most  out-of-doors 
people,  the  Smyrniotes,  that  I  have  ever  seen.  And  one  reason 
perhaps  is,  that  they  have  a  beauty  which  has  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  daylight.  The  rich,  classic,  glowing  face  of  the  Greeks, 
the  paler  and  livelier  French,  the  serious  and  impassioned  Italian, 
the  blooming  English,  and  the  shrinking  and  fragile  American, 
mingle  together  in  this  concourse  of  grace  and  elegance  like  the 
varied  flowers  in  the  garden.  I  would  match  Smyrna  against  the 
world  for  beauty.  And  then  such  sociability,  such  primitive 
cordiality  of  manners  as  you  find  among  them  !  It  is  quite  a 
Utopia.  You  would  think  that  little  republic  of  merchants, 
separate  from  the  Christian  world  on  a  heathen  shore,  had 
Commenced  de  novo,  from  Eden — ignorant  as  yet  of  jealousy, 
envy,  suspicion,  and  the  other  ingredients  with  which  the  old 
world  mingles  up  its  refinements.  It  is  a  very  pleasant  place, 
Smyrna  ! 

The  stranger,  on  his  arrival,  is  immediately  introduced  to  the 
Casino — a  large  palace,  supported  by  the  subscription  of  the 
residents,  containing  a  reading-room,  furnished  with  all  the 
gazettes  and  reviews  of  Europe,  a  ball-room  frequently  used,  a 
Coffee-room  whence  the  delicious  mocha  is  brought  to  you  when 
ever  you  enter,  billiard-tables,  card-rooms,  etc.,  etc.  The 
merchants  are  all  members,  and  any  member  can  introduce  a 
stranger,  and  give  him  all  the  privileges  of  the  place  during  his 
stay  in  the  city.  It  is  a  courtesy  that  is  not  a  little  drawn  upon. 
English,  French,  and  American  ships-of-war  are  almost  always  in 
the  port,  and  the  officers  are  privileged  guests.  Every  traveller 
to  the  east  passes  by  Smyrna,  aud  there  are  always  numbers  at 
the  Casino.  In  fact,  the  hospitality  of  this  kindest  of  cities,  has 


ON  BOARD   AN  AMERICAN   FRIGATE.  393 


not  the  usual  demerit  of  being  rarely  called  upon.     It  seems  to 
have  grown  with  the  demand  for  it. 


Idling  away  the  time  very  agreeably  at  Smyrna,  waiting  for  a 
vessel  to  go — I  care  not  where.  I  have  offered  myself  as  a 
passenger  in  the  first  ship  that  sails.  I  rather  lean  toward 
Palestine  and  Egypt,  but  there  are  no  vessels  for  Jaffa  or  Alex 
andria.  A  brig,  crowded  with  hajjis  to  Jerusalem,  sailed  on  the 
first  day  of  my  arrival  at  Smyrna,  and  I  was  on  the  point  of  a 
hasty  embarkation,  when  my  good  angel,  in  the  shape  of  a  sudden 
caprice,  sent  me  off  to  Sardis.  The  plague  broke  out  on  board 
immediately  on  leaving  the  port,  and  nearly  the  whole  ship's 
company  perished  at  sea  ! 

There  are  plenty  of  vessels  bound  to  Trieste  and  the  United 
States,  but  there  would  be  nothing  new  to  me  in  Illyria  and 
Lotnbardy  ;  and  much  as  I  love  my  country,  I  am  more  enamored 
for  the  present  of  my  "  sandal-shoon."  Besides,  I  have  a 
yearning  to  the  south,  and  the  cold  u  Bora1'  of  that  bellows-like 
Adriatic,  and  the  cutting  winter  winds  of  my  native  shore,  chill 
me  even  in  the  thought.  Meantime  I  breathe  an  air  borrowed 
by  December  of  May,  and  sit  with  my  windows  open,  warming 
myself  in  a  broad  beam  of  the  soft  sun  of  Asia.  With  such 
"  appliances,"  even  suspense  is  agreeable. 


The  commodore  sailed  this  morning  for  his  winter  quarters  in 
Minorca.     I  watched  the  ship's  preparations  for  departure  from 
17* 


394         SUMMER    CRUISE    IN    THE    MEDITERRANEAN, 


the  balcony  of  the  hotel,  with  a  heavy  heart.  Her  sails  dropped 
from  the  yards,  her  head  turned  slowly  outward  as  the  anchor 
brought  away,  and  with  a  light  breeze  in  her  topsails,  the  gallant 
frigate  moved  majestically  down  the  harbor,  and  in  an  hour  was 
a  speck  on  the  horizon.  She  had  been  my  home  for  more  than 
six  months.  I  had  seen  from  her  deck,  and  visited  in  her  boats 
some  of  the  fairest  portions  of  the  world.  She  had  borne  me  to 
Cicily,  to  Illyria,  to  the  Isles  and  shores  of  Greece,  to  Marmora 
and  the  Bosphorus,  and  the  thousand  lovely  pictures  with  which 
that  long  summer  voyage  had  stored  my  memory,  and  the 
thousand  adventures  and  still  more  numerous  kindnesses  and 
courtesies,  linked  with  these  interesting  scenes,  crowded  on  my 
mind  as  the  noble  ship  receded  from  my  eye,  with  an  emotion 
that  I  could  not  repress. 

There  is  a  "  pomp  and  circumstance"  about  a  man-of-war, 
which  is  exceedingly  fascinating.  Her  imposing  structure  and 
appearance,  the  manly  and  deferential  etiquette,  the  warlike 
appointment  and  impressive  order  upon  her  decks,  the  ready  and 
gallantly  manned  boat,  the*  stirring  music  of  the  band,  and  the 
honor  and  attention  with  which  her  officers  are  received  in  every 
port,  conspire  in  keeping  awake  an  excitement,  a  kind  of 
chivalrous  elation,  which,  it  seems  to  me,  would  almost  make  a 
hero  of  a  man  of  straw.  From  the  hoarse  "  seven  bells,  sir  !" 
ivifh  which  you  are  turned  out  of  your  hammock  in  the  morning, 
to  the  blast  of  the  bugle  and  the  report  of  the  evening  gun,  it  is 
one  succession  of  elevating  sights  and  sounds,  without  any  of 
that  approach  to  the  ridiculous  which  accompanies  the  sublime 
or  the  impressive  on  shore. 

From  the  comparisons  I  have  made  between  our  own  and  the 
ships-of-war  of  other  nations,  I  think  we  may  well  be  proud  of 


ON    BOARD  AN    AMERICAN  FRIGATE.  395 


our  navy.  I  had  learned  in  Europe,  long  before  joining  the 
"  United  States,"  that  the  respect  we  exact  from  foreigners  is 
paid  more  to  Americans  afloat,  than  to  a  continent  they  think  as 
far  off  at  least  as  the  moon.  They  see  our  men-of-war,  and  they 
know  very  well  what  they  have  done,  and  from  the  appearance 
and  chnracter  of  our  officers,  what  they  might  do  again — and 
there  is  a  tangibility  in  the  deduction*  from  knowledge  and  eye 
sight,  which  beats  books  and  statistics.  I  have  heard  Englishmen 
deny,  one  by  one,  every  claim  we  have  to  political  and  moral 
superiority  ;  but  I  have  found  no  one  illiberal  enough  to  refuse  a 
compliment,  and  a  handsome  one,  to  Yankee  ships. 

I  consider  myself,  I  repeat,  particularly  fortunate  to  have  made 
a  cruise  on  board  an  American  frigate.  It  is  a  chapter  of 
observation  in  itself,  which  is  worth  much  to  any  one.  But,  in 
addition  to  this,  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  have  happened  upon 
a  cruise  directed  by  a  mind  full  of  taste  and  desire  for  knowledge, 
and  a  cruise  which  had  for  its  principal  objects  improvement  and 
information.  Commodore  Patterson  knew  the  ground  well,  and 
was  familiar  with  the  history  and  localities  of  the  interesting 
countries  visited  by  the  ship,  and  every,  possible  facility  and 
encouragement  was  given  by  him  to  all  to  whom  the  subjects  and 
places  were  new.  An  enlightened  and  enterprising  traveller 
himself,  he  was  the  best  of  advisers  and  the  best  and  kindest  of 
guides.  I  take  pleasure  in  recording  almost  unlimited  obligations 
to  him. 

And  so,  to  the  gallant  ship — to  the  "  warlike  world  within" — 
to  the  decks  I  have  so  often  promenaded,  and  the  moonlight 
watches  I  have  so  often  shared — to  the  groups  of  manly  faces  I 
have  learned  to  know  so  well — to  the  drum-beat  and  the  bugle- 
call,  and  the  stirring  music  of  the  band — to  the  hammock  in 


396       "SUMMER  CRUISE  IN  THE  MEDITERRANEAN. 


which  I  swung  and  slept  so  soundly,  and  last  and  nearest  my 
heart,  to  the  gay  and  hospitable  mess  with  whom  for  six  happy 
months  I  have  been  a  guest  and  a  friend,  whose  feelings  I  have 
learned  but  to  honor  my  country  more,  and  whose  society  has 
become  to  me  even  a  painful  want — to  all  this  catalogue  of 
happiness,  I  am  bidding  a  heavy-hearted  farewell.  Luck  and 
Heaven's  blessing  to  ship  and  company  ' 


I 


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